A Charmed Life
by HarryPotter21
Summary: College life is hard. But being a Halliwell in college is even harder. Follow Anakin Halliwell as he tries to get to school on time and thwart the most powerful evil being the Halliwells have faced, an evil Power That Be.
1. Chapter 1

The Break's Over

Anakin sat on the floor, face hidden from the world, buried in his palms. Depressed and exhausted, he sighed deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. Life had never been easy for him. It hardly ever was for a Halliwell, but he had a particularly screwed up life. Or at least a part of him had. He always felt lost and alone even when he knew he should not.

Today was no exception, except that he should have been a bit joyous. For today, he had moved out of the manor and into an apartment that he would live in for his four years at Johns Hopkins University.

The apartment was small and, at the moment, an utter mess. Strewn with boxes and sets of miss matched furniture, it resembled more of a garbage dump than someone's home. But try as he might, Anakin could not muster the energy to start unpacking. The move had been more draining than he had expected: physically, but especially emotionally. The original two-week cross-country trip had turned into a half day of orbing his stuff hurriedly into the one-bed, one-bath apartment.

The youngest son of Piper and Leo lifted his head just enough to glance at the mess of boxes still taped shut. In those boxes that took up the floor space of his whole apartment were all of his worldly possessions. He felt only apprehension mixed with a horrible sense of loss. When his eyes threatened to well up, he hid them back behind his palms, his breathing shallow and sporadic, almost gasps, but not quite there yet.

Anakin could not understand why he felt like this. He had been dreaming about this moment since the beginning of his senior year. A life all on his own. No magic. No big brothers. No overprotective parents…just freedom. But now that he had it, he was not quite sure it was worth it. He felt no pride in his home, no happiness at his independence. All he felt was empty and weak.

The young male witch had grown up with a large family; a family he had gone back in time to save. Now, barely seven years later, he was rushing out of the Manor with little more than a peck on his mother's cheek and a brief handshake with his father. The rest of his family hadn't been there to say goodbye or wish him good luck.

Both of his brothers helped magically transport his belongings but then vanished. Neither of them was particularly that thrilled with their baby brother moving across the country. Part of Wyatt's and Chris's concern was rooted in their envy of Anakin escaping the Halliwell curse of being roped into working at Magic School. But a much greater part stemmed from the ever-present fear of a demonic attack. It had never boded well for Halliwells when they separated.

Prue had been busy, but she was coming to dinner later; rather, was bringing dinner. She was accepting of Anakin's decision to move out of the Manor; after all, she had done the same for a much dumber reason than to attend a prestigious school. But even that thought did not help the sinking feeling in Anakin's chest. Love them or hate them, he missed his family, and his brothers' actions cut deeper than they probably knew.

Then again, it was not like he was moving completely away from his family. He had purposely chosen Johns Hopkins because he would be near Prue. His sole sister had been offered a cooking job along the lines of the famous Rachael Ray days after graduating high school and Magic School. Another Halliwell became a mini-celebrity practically overnight. She moved to Maryland to be close to her current boyfriend—who dumped her weeks later—but her career kept her on the East Coast and she'd grown to love it. And she certainly had not remained single for long.

Anakin smiled at that thought. Prue was truly born to be with someone. She was loving, kind, generous, and not hesitant about speaking her mind. But above all, she was accepting. He adored his family each and every one of them, but it had always been Prue who had treated him with what he considered _respect_. Logically, Anakin knew that his entire family loved him and only wanted what was best for him; he was eternally thankful for that. But having his mother, father, and brothers hanging over his shoulder or protecting his back all the time got a little bit tiresome. Prue gave him some breathing room.

Deciding it would not do to look utterly depressed when Prue arrived, Anakin stood up with another exhausted sigh. He stared at the nearest set of boxes. Each was dull tan and had large, white, rectangular labels plastered on their sides. Scrawls handwriting in either one of his brothers' messy scribbles or the perfectionist-hand of his mother described in one or two words the contents inside of each box.

The boxes he was currently staring at was labeled "Linens." Where he had gotten four boxes worth of bedding and towels escaped him, but that was not an argument he was willing to start. His mother overdid things when she was flustered.

He moved away from the small alcove housing the window that overlooked the quiet Baltimore street. In the distance set against the brilliant orange-red sunset was the domed top of the hospital. The view was picturesque and had Anakin been in a better mood, he would have enjoyed it a lot more. At the moment, he was preoccupied and heavy-hearted.

Another depressed sigh escaped his lips as he turned to browse the boxes settled in the center of the tiny living room. Most of them were clothes that he had no interest in unpacking until Prue arrived to set a fire beneath his lazy ass. He was simply looking and reading the labels to take his mind off the feelings of being alone.

The blond focused his efforts in finding a single box that as of four hours ago had not been on the East Coast.

Piper had insisted that she at least be allowed to set up his bedroom. Anakin promptly refused; this was something he was going to do by himself to prove to his family he could manage. But after a long debate in which he never gained the upper-hand, Piper won. The half-witch-half-whitelighter begrudgingly orbed the Halliwell matriarch to the apartment and gave her a quick grand tour and even more hurriedly explained his vague idea on how he would be decorating the place.

Once his mother had convinced herself, however briefly, that her baby was going to be fine, she moved on to the bedroom. She meticulously unpacked each box, one at a time, and laid everything out in neat orderly rows. Then she set out putting everything in their "correct" places. The two tables, one ancient chest-of-drawers and his queen-sized bed were squeezed into the small bedroom. The few small decorative items had not arrived yet but that did not concern Piper; she was quite happy to allow Anakin to have some hand in adorning his bedroom.

But what had irked the eldest Charmed One was the missing box of bedding: the one containing Anakin's actual bedding. She spent a half-hour looking for the box before Anakin was finally able to get her to let it slide. He was pretty sure that Wyatt and Chris had hidden the box in some dark alley somewhere to make sure he had to come home at least once. But he could not deal with having his mother around any longer; he needed some time to adjust and that would not happen with Piper sitting in the crowded living room.

"Never trust two three-year-olds to help with moving," Anakin mumbled under his breath as he shoved boxes aside in order to grab the others.

His annoyance aside, Anakin had to admit it was an impressive display of power. The boxes were set up in a perfect fort-like fashion, annoying when it came to finding a box, but a notable achievement. Neither of his brothers had set foot in the apartment, so the whole tower had been built purely on a vague description.

He reached the bottom corner box, the last unchecked box in the small living room. His fingers brushed the cardboard of the exterior, and it burst into millions of tiny blue orbs which swirled around in a tornado-like fashion before disappearing. Another box from somewhere to Anakin's left vanished as well, only to reappear in place of the box he had touched. The boxes had switched places in a final display of his brothers' disapproval for his leaving. But the display was not over. As if the boxes were a set of dominoes, the entire fort turned bright blue and reorganized itself.

Anakin growled, wanting to do nothing more than sit down and cry in frustration. Running his hand through his hair he looked to the ceiling, muttering, "I'm going to kill you guys."

"Kill who?"

Anakin spun around, eyes wide in surprise. He stared at his older sister peeking through his front door. She was breathing hard, probably due to the armload of groceries she carried, yet she still managed to gracefully close the door.

"Murder's hardly ever the answer, li'l bro."

Anakin recovered and managed a short smile. "I think the divine powers will let this one slip by."

The blond hurried forward and silently offered to take the groceries. Prue dropped the bags into Anakin's arms and looked around the apartment with a knowing smirk plastered on her face.

"As much as I know our brothers deserve to be killed, I think Mom would mind if her Thanksgiving table lacked two of her offspring." She said, her eyes falling on Anakin.

He huffed in defeat. "Low blow, sis."

Giving the innocent-looking box one last glare, he moved to the kitchen.

"They always had good imaginations."

The up-and-coming chef smiled as she took in her sibling's masterpiece with amused eyes.

"Yeah, they do." Anakin allowed himself a small smile.

He dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. "Now if only they would use it for _good_ instead of annoying their baby brother."

"Oh relax, Annie, they're just showing that they love you," Prue whispered as she gently maneuvered the depressed witch out of the kitchen.

Groaning, Anakin took the hint and followed along. He ran his hand through his hair as the feeling of despair washed over him. Shoving that emotion aside, he slumped into a seat at his small dining room table.

"Maybe they could love me a little bit less, then."

Prue grinned to herself and shook her head. She verbally ignored Anakin's comment and instead turned her attention to the kitchen. Apprehension flooded her mind as she took in the tiny hole-in-the-wall that barely passed as a kitchen.

The room was a tiny six by six box. One side had the fridge and dishwasher along with the sink and two small cupboards; the other, the only usable counter space. Everything appeared to be from the seventies era or earlier. Nothing had been well looked after.

Waving aside her disbelief at the state of the kitchen, Prue went about unpacking the groceries. Three of the bags went directly into the refrigerator, unpacked. She felt the more layers between the food and the fridge, the better. The yellowing door swung shut on its own with a squeak as the female witch began to unpack the remaining paper bag.

"You have powers of your own, you know," she began.

"Personal gain," Anakin chimed, face still buried in his hands.

"And you wonder why we call you a momma's boy."

Anakin either did not hear her or did not bother responding. She glanced at her brother, worried. He had always been much more upbeat, but now he was the picture of depression. She bit her lip; no good pushing the matter.

"Potato salad or macaroni salad?"

"Potato." he answered blandly.

He leaned back in the chair and tried to wipe away the stress at least from his face. Slumping into a slouch Anakin wondered to himself why he was being so standoffish to his sister. They'd always had a good relationship; he had always told her everything, never been hesitant or worried that she might think less of him. But now, he was picking his words and avoiding topics.

No time like the present to change that, he thought.

"I can't believe school starts in two days. I was supposed to have settled in a week ago."

Prue nodded as she carried over a paper plate loaded with rolls, potato salad, and half a rotisserie chicken. "Well, that's what happens in this family." She placed the plate in front of her brooding brother. She started up again as she fetched her own dinner. "When I moved here I had barely four hours to settle before I started my job."

Anakin let out a loaded sigh. "Yeah, but at least you had Payton by your side and what's-his-face."

"It's Kyle, by the way. And thanks," said Prue, feigning hurt. "I guess I don't count."

Anakin looked over at his sister, and a smile tugging at his lips. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

The two siblings fell silent. Prue ate slowly, glancing worriedly at him with her Piper-esque brown eyes. Nothing about her physical appearance had changed much since she was twelve, besides the obvious. She still had her long wavy brown hair with subtle highlights. She wore little makeup due to her flawless skin; the entire family had escaped the curse of puberty-induced acne. Her round face was as quick as ever to show her current emotional state. The major change was on her left ring finger: a simple yet elegant gold engagement ring topped with a glittering diamond.

Anakin ignored his sister's concerned stares and focused on pushing the potato salad from one side of his plate to the other. He was too preoccupied to feel hungry. Even the very smell of the chicken made him mildly nauseous, but he was too thankful to Prue not to at least attempt to eat—eventually. He had a lot on his mind: the move, school, a new job, and his family. But if he was truly honest with himself the biggest fear weighing on him was Lucien.

It had been two years since he'd last spoken to Lucien, yet the wound in his heart refused to fully heal. Since then, he had attempted to date others that rarely made it to the boyfriend stage. Some of them had been decent guys, and they had fun together. But they were just vain attempts to fill the void left by Lucien's departure, and eventually they grew distant and vanished into the flow of the world.

Lucien and Anakin had been ten when they'd met. By eleven, they had been going out for a year. Then all hell broke loose and they lost each other in the fight to save the world. Anakin had turned eleven in the changed timeline before they reconnected. Everything had gone fine for a while, but some things could never truly be overcome. So when he was sixteen and Lucien seventeen, the older had stormed out the Manor for the last time. It had been a story too good to be true. He knew that, but it still stung when Lucien left.

Anakin had never been a sappy, show-your-feelings sort of person. He had built a shield to protect himself from emotional hurt, partially thanks to he horrors he saw his previous self experience. He never had thousands of friends like Wyatt or Prue; even workaholic Chris had more friends. Most of his family knew very little about what went through his mind. Wyatt, Prue, Chris, and Piper were his confidantes; they knew almost everything about him, especially Prue. But it had been Lucien he had opened himself completely to, and it hurt a lot more than he'd expected when Lucien slammed that door.

He shook his head; it was not healthy to dwell on the past. "How's the job?" he asked instead, breaking the silence.

Prue gave him a noncommittal shrug. "Same old, same old. They're having me run through recipes and make cheap versions of them for college students. Not exactly my dream job, but at least it's a job."

"And Payton?" Anakin put down his fork. He couldn't stomach any more tonight.

"She's out on a date with Thomas-something or other." Prue said simply. "She's just like her mother."

Anakin smiled half-heartedly. "Well, remind her that she's barely twenty-one. She still has time."

"That's what I tell her but she's set on being married before she's twenty-five, and she wants to be engaged for at least a year, and she wants to be dating for a year before that. So in her mind, she's got a year, tops."

"And Kyle?" He wasn't really interested, but it was nice not to have Prue staring suspiciously at him.

Prue smiled. "Kyle's just fine. He's in New York for the week helping his dad with some business takeover. He told me to tell you he wished he could have been here to help move you in."

Anakin nodded, staring at the wall behind Prue. "Tell him thanks."

He really had nothing against the man and he made Prue happy. But the protective streak in his family was alive and well in him. He did not want to see Prue hurt and so was critical of her boyfriend on principle. Prue and Kyle had been dating for a year before they moved to Baltimore. Six months later, Prue came home for the Wiccaning of Wyatt's son and sprang the news of their engagement on the family. Piper had nearly fainted, and Leo went purple in the face. The reactions of fear and hostility quickly turned into ones of excitement and anticipation when it became clear they could not change her mind. Anakin was the only one who openly questioned Prue's decision at times and was certainly the sole Halliwell to tell her anything negative about Kyle. But that was the nature of their relationship; they told each other the truth, even when it hurt.

Anakin peered around the room. "Really wish all of this was already done."

Prue followed his eyes. "A little orbing and it'll be done in a half an hour."

"Personal gain," he sang.

"Screw the rules. It's the Elders' fault you only have a day to get settled in anyway. They owe you."

Anakin nodded distractedly.

"Come on," Prue pushed. "I'll help."

Anakin closed his eyes slowly and kept them shut, readying himself. "Fine, thanks."

She nodded, biting her lip. It wasn't good for anyone to be this depressed and that was true even more so for Anakin. "Alright, I'll start in the kitchen and you do the living room."

Prue took charge and began waving her hands as if conducting an invisible orchestra. Anakin joined in, emptying boxes and depositing the items aside with flicks of his fingers. Wyatt and Chris were excellent orbers but they stood no chance against the pair of them. In fifteen minutes, the entire apartment was completely set up, a mini version of Anakin's small "wing" in the Manor plus kitchen.

"Thanks." He expressed, a little more upbeat.

"You're very welcome." She smiled and sat in the loveseat across from the flat screen TV.

Anakin settled for the rolling computer chair, his favorite seat. It had been a sixteenth birthday present from Lucien. Pushing that thought aside he rushed back into conversation. "Think Wyatt and Chris will keep avoiding me?"

Prue shook her head. "Nah, they're too soft to do that, sweetie. They had a similar reaction when I left last year, but they got over it pretty quickly."

"And Mom?" he wondered aloud. "I wasn't very patient with her today."

"She's an adult, Annie," assured Prue. "She understands that you're under a lot of pressure."

"And Dad nearly broke down when I left."

"Dad's always been a softy." He could tell she was straining to keep her tone happy. "He's just sad that his baby is leaving the nest. Don't think too much about their reaction; they all know this is what you want. And to them, all that matters is that you're happy."

He nodded, falling quiet.

After a few minutes of silence, he blurted, "I wrote to him once." "Who?" Prue frowned. Slowly, realization dawned in her features. "Oh. Lucien."

"Yeah," Anakin looked down, finding his shoes suddenly very interesting. "Just asked him how he was and stuff...."

"And?" Prue prompted.

He shrugged, blinking away his blurred vision. "He never wrote back."

"He's a dick, Anakin; it's his loss." She stood up, watching him struggle to keep it together. She walked around the coffee table and knelt beside him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her for a moment longer than was necessary.

"I can still sense him every now and again." He swallowed. He looked into Prue's eyes, sad. "He's worried, Prue. He's worried a lot."

Prue nibbled her lip, not entirely sure how to approach the issue. She had seen how close Anakin grew to Lucien, and the curly-haired elemental had definitely loved her brother. But six months before they broke up, something had changed in Lucien. He became distant and cold toward not just Anakin, but everyone. His brown eyes never shone with the happiness they all associated with him.

Anakin had fought hard to keep him, to be there for the young man. But he'd pushed against that, alienating him. Then one day, they'd got into a massive fight. They had fought before, but this was nothing compared to their previous arguments. Anakin had never told anyone what the fight was about, but they all knew that it was the type of fight a relationship could not withstand. The next day, Lucien came by to pick up various items he had left at the Manor over the years. He hadn't come back since then.

And Anakin had slipped into a dark depression that led to him to try to commit suicide. It was by sheer luck that Wyatt orbed in when he did. He had taken a powerful potion, and his heart had stopped for ten minutes before Wyatt was finally able to heal him. Piper and Leo had sent Anakin to a psychologist afterwards, but it did not help. He'd healed on his own time in his own way. Slowly, they'd got back the young man that they knew and loved. But he never fully recovered, and was prone to bouts of depression, although he never tried to kill himself again. His sister had made him promise to never try it again under threat of, ironically, death.

"Annie," Prue spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I know this is going to be hard to hear, but I am going to say it anyway. He's not your problem anymore. He didn't want your help and probably still doesn't. Why is beyond me, but _that_ is the truth."

Anakin nodded, but returned to his stares into space. "And you see I get that. I know that he chose to face this alone, but I can't stop caring, Prue. I know what he's going through. I can help."

He sighed as she patted him on the head softly. "Perhaps we should have gone out and gotten drunk."

Anakin laughed once. "Don't think alcohol is going to solve my problems."

"Who said _you _were getting drunk?" Prue she teased with an arched eyebrow.

He grinned, standing to give her a hug. "Thanks. I think I'm going to go to bed."

Prue stood, moving toward the door . "Alright. I'll see you around tomorrow."

He rose with her glanced toward his bedroom, suddenly feeling drained. Perhaps the day had been longer than he'd thought.

"And Anakin…"

He spun around questioningly. "Yeah?"

"Don't ever hesitate in calling me, OK?" She gave him a stern, no-nonsense look that showed she meant business. He gave her a tiny smile.

"The thought hadn't cross my mind."

"Ok, then. I'll see you."

"Night, Prue." He waited as she collected her keys and opened the front door.

"Bye."

"Bye." When the door was shut, he twitched his finger, locking the bolt. With a weary sigh, he padded the short distance across his apartment to his bedroom.

The bedroom was nothing special. A queen-sized bed sat against the middle of one wall. On the other was the large closet where he kept his clothes and potion ingredients along with his copy of the Book of Shadows. There was a door that led to the bathroom, complete with toilet, vanity, and shower. A large wooden cabinet stood next to the bedroom door, holding all of his folded clothing. On top of it was another TV and DVD player. Next to that was a picture frame with a photo of his mom, dad, brothers, and sister all seated on a park bench taken only a few weeks ago.

That had been a happy day. They had gone to the park to celebrate his nephew's, Wyatt's son, first birthday. Wyatt's fiancée had taken their picture while he had been playing with Zach on the slide. The blond-haired, blue-eyed tyke had refused to leave the slide. Being the fun uncle, he'd offered to look after him while everyone else posed for a picture. The picture turned out perfect and, using a bit of magic, his mother added him, Sarah, and Zach into the photograph after development. However, he had removed the spell on his copy. He did not see the point of having himself in the picture and he was not as skilled as his mother to put Sarah and Zach back in.

And now, once again, he was out the picture. Sure, it was what he'd wanted, but it was not exactly _how_ he wanted it. He wanted a life outside of magic and his family, but wanted someone to share it with. Smiling sadly, he turned away and left to brush his teeth.

In the cramped bathroom, he studied himself in the mirror as he brushed. The stranger staring back at him was not the man he ever imagined himself being. This man was sad, weary, lost. He always saw himself as happy, determined, and with a set path out in front of him. But the reflection man was too much like the other Anakin than either of them wanted to be.

"Seems to be our destiny to be alone, hey, Annie?"

No answer came. He had not expected one. The other Anakin had long since stopped intruding into his conscious, but in his dreams, he witnessed the horrors of the previous timeline. He saw Wyatt and Chris burst into ash. He saw his mother being fatally hit by a fireball as she ran to save him. He watched helplessly as Prue was vanquished by the assassin demon. There was the anguish he felt at hearing Paige's demise, the anger at the world when Victor was diagnosed with lung cancer; the horror when Lucien said he would turn evil.

Life had not been easy in the alternate time, but this life was just full of new problems. It seems there was no such thing as happily ever after.


	2. Fallen Men

Fallen Men

Down the barely-lit street, a lone man stood on the sidewalk opposite Anakin's apartment. His neck was strained backwards so he could watch the light in the window flicker out. His gaze shifted to the gated doors of the building in time to watch Prue exit. Calculating brown eyes remained transfixed on the back of the young witch as she walked briskly and determinedly to the silver Mercedes parked a couple of yards away. Prue gracefully slipped into the cabin and turned on the engine.

Illuminated by the red parking lights, the mysterious stranger blinked as the lights dimmed and the silver car pulled off onto the otherwise empty street. He exhaled slowly and swatted away bothersome mosquitoes with a thin, bony hand. Once the car turned the far corner and disappeared from sight, he slowly wandered across the street in the direction of the apartment building.

Owain Glyndwr, named by people who once thought he was their friend, smiled, conveying a sense of knowing and cunning. Had someone been there to witness the small smirk-like grin, a shiver would have run up their spine. But, as Owain had planned, he was very much alone on the quiet street. He studied the old building as he approached it and stopped in the shadow cast by the overhang. Looking around to ensure he was alone, he focused his cold gaze on the locked and gated glass doors.

The room behind the black wrought-iron gate was lit by a flickering yellow incandescent bulb. The dying lamp sat on the termite-ridden, banged-up front desk. Behind the chest-high desk sat an old security guard with his hat covering his face. His fat chest heaved in such a fashion that it was clear to all he was sound asleep. The fake moss green and creamy orange floor tiles were peeling at the edges, revealing the green-brown sticky mess underneath.

Owain Glyndwr scrunched his nose in disgust and turned back to the sleeping security guard. The guard's keys sat on the desk above the out-of-view video monitor. His cold brown eyes flashed, showing heat and controlled fury for a brief second. He raised his hand and hanging in between his spindly fingers was a single brass key on a small silver keychain. Slowly, he slid the key into the lock and turned it. The lock clicked. He removed the key and turned the chipped brass doorknob carefully to tone down any unnecessary noise. He shoved aside the heavy black iron gate, and edged the wooden glass door open far enough for him to slip his slender frame through. The door closed and locked of its own accord; the key chain on the desk once again had four keys on it. The guard kept on snoring softly. Owain smiled.

Now in a slightly more lit area, Owain Glyndwr's physical appearance showed its contrasts. He had a smooth, unblemished forehead that seemed to extend the space between his thin brown eyebrows and hairline to a distance unusual in humans. His hair was buzzed short. His ears were clearly visible and lay perfectly flat against his head. His skin was pale, but in the do-not-get-enough-sun sort of way. He had a wide nose between his two brown eyes. His lips were thick, dry, and red. And he was dressed sharply; too sharply to be from this part of town.

Owain strode up to the front desk, careful to not scuff his shiny black shoes on the moldy tiles. When he reached, he looked at the sleeping guard; a mixture of disgust and humor played across his face. He rapped his knuckle hard on the chipped wood making a hollow knocking sound. The obese security guard jumped at the noise, and sat up abruptly, knocking his stomach against the desk's edge. He grunted in pain but straightened his cap and studied the intruder with his ageing blue eyes.

"'Scuse me. Can I help you?" asked the guard politely, still blinking away sleep.

Owain Glyndwr nodded. In a whisper feigning concern he said, "I am here to see an old acquaintance, but he forgot to give me his room number. Is it possible for you to give it to me?"

The officer frowned and looked over at the shut front door. "How'd you get in if you didn't know the number?"

"I caught a young gentleman as he was exiting the building. Very nice bloke," he said with a smile.

The guard shivered, clearly unsettled by the smile. "Well, I guess, since you say you're acquaintances," he muttered. "I'm not really supposed to do this, but since it's so late and all." He opened a large black book on top of the desk. "Name?"

"Owain Glyndwr," the brown-eyed man stated clearly. He was used to people stumbling over his name.

The guard's frown increased. "Not your name. That you put in the book over there," he point helpfully to a binder glued to the front desk a couple of feet away. "The name of your friend, please."

"Right," Owain chuckled with embarrassment. "I am so sorry. The name is Anakin Halliwell."

"Halliwell?" The guard scanned the list before him. "Oh yes, Halliwell," his eyes lit up in recognition. "He just moved in. Very kind young man – greeted me and everything. He's in 209, second floor, on your left, and then straight down until you can't go no more."

"Thank you," Owain smiled once more. "And one more question: do those cameras work?"

"What?" The old man glanced at the security camera hidden away in the corner above the large, obviously fake, potted plant. "Those old things? Nope, haven't worked in years. Just keep them around to make the tenants feel safe."

He nodded slowly. "Too bad," he whispered, smiling evilly.

His brown eyes locked onto blue and the blue eyes suddenly shimmered with fear. He raised his hand and the security guard let out a gasp and clutched at his chest. His face turned purple and his eyes bulged in pain, but no sound escaped his throat. Owain watched passively, ignoring the man's wild looks of terror and fear. Finally the guard's eyes rolled back into his head, and his fat body slumped in his chair.

With an impatient frown, Owain walked around the front desk, undid the top few buttons of the guard's shirt, and loosened the black tie. A heart attack was what the death would be recorded as, but he knew otherwise and so would the Halliwells. Finally, he pushed the old man's lolling head back and replaced the cap over his face.

Satisfied the guard would rest in peace, Owain turned his attention to the ancient elevator. He crinkled his nose in disgust when he forced himself to touch the sticky call button. A large metal arrow, which at one point in its life had been shiny and proud, slowly displayed the elevator's progress as it descended from the topmost sixth floor of the brick building. A faint bell echoed through the empty lobby and the brass doors creaked open. The elevator groaned in protest to the added weight when he stepped into the carpeted space. His long thin finger reluctantly touched the number two button and he impatiently tapped his right foot as the doors creaked closed.

He stepped out of the elevator, which sighed in relief. He watched the brass doors slide shut and noticed that the arrow began to move. Someone else was coming up. He hesitated, wondering if he would have to kill another. He had been studying the apartment building for a week and knew the comings and goings of all its occupants. The person coming down was most likely the junkie twenty something who lived on the fourth floor. She cared about nothing except her fix and so would not notice that the security guard was not breathing tonight.

The confident murderer strolled down the passage following the security guard's directions. He stopped in front of a wooden door with a dusty gold two and gold nine which swung on one nail. In the middle, barely visible in the horrible lighting was the faded outline of a zero in between the two and nine. The door was unpainted and scratched; long gouges made the wooden face uneven.

Owain's eyes flashed, and the dim light shattered, throwing the corridor into utter darkness. He pressed his hand firmly against the hinge-side of the door causing the wood to creak. He continued to push; his breathing became slightly more erratic in response to the effort he was exerting. Suddenly, the creaking sound became a series of soft cracks, and the door broke off its hinges, sending him stumbling into the apartment.

Owain corrected his momentary lapse and stood for a second in the center of the small entrance way catching his breath, holding the wooden door slightly off the floor. A soft, white glow issued from the shattered door. The light dimmed and all evidence of the break in vanished. Nodding in approval, Owain turned to face the small, dark apartment.

Empty boxes were stacked in a pile next to the cramped island barely large enough to hold keys and a small bowl for loose change. The dining room table was a folding, rickety old thing that was shoved to the side of the kitchen counter. The kitchen was neat and tidy with new appliances, an oddity. The mismatch of living room furniture brought a small smirk to Owain's face. It showed just how determined Anakin Halliwell was.

The young blond wanted to prove to his family that he could make it out in the "big bad world" all by himself. The Halliwells were not lacking in money. All three of the sisters were famous in their fields of expertise, and Magic School paid its employees handsomely. If Anakin had asked for a mansion he would have gotten the White House, President included. But here he was in an apartment whose last tenants probably died of drug overdoses.

Owain rolled his neck, releasing some of the tension. He was no stranger to the whole murder-and-crime business. But taking on the Halliwells by attacking their precious golden child would make any evil being, amateur or otherwise, sweat. He carefully made his way to the bedroom and opened the door with a slight shove of his shoulder. There, lying under covers that looked far too warm for the middle of a Baltimore heat wave, was the object of years of preparation. Anakin Halliwell was sound asleep, utterly helpless, and completely alone.

Owain Glyndwr had made sure of that last one. Each and every one of Anakin's family members would be completely preoccupied until it was too late to help the most powerful witch of the next generation. Even Anakin's guardian angel, his whitelighter, was on another mission thanks to a few well-placed connections in the remnants of the Elders. Lucien was chasing his own demons and would not hear the distress calls of his ex-lover. The only person who could possibly help Anakin was rumored to be dead, but Owain knew otherwise. The whole purpose of tonight was to discover the whereabouts of the second Twice-Blessed child.

He moved past the bed knowing he had one more job to finish before getting to Anakin. He slunk toward the closet and upon nearing the doors, they warningly glowed a pale yellow. Owain shook his head and softly snapped his fingers; the glowing immediately was snuffed out. He slid the closet door open slowly, straining to keep the door's rattling to a minimum.

In the closet, sat on a velvet cloth, was the prized Halliwell Book of Shadows, or at least Anakin's copy. The Book glowed threateningly, and the air around it sparked with untamed magic. Ignoring the ominous crackles, Owain reached out, smiling. Owain's eyes sparkled in triumph as his fingers neared the prized tome. But when his fingertips brushed the cover the Book shot away. His eyes widened in shock. Old magic protected this copy.

"Fine," he hissed, annoyed. "Have it your way, Melinda."

He stuffed his hand into his pants' pocket. Balling his hand into a fist, he pulled out a piece of rumpled paper. Roughly he smoothed the note on the edge of the Book's resting place. Anger danced across his face as he conjured a ball of pale blue light in the palm of his freed hand.

"_Quasso hic tutela,_" he spat under his breath.

The ball of light shifted to a dark red and drove itself deep into the pages of the ancient tome. The triquetra on the front cover glowed a fiery orange. Owain glared at the Book and the glow was snuffed out. The book slumped forward, lifeless.

"I always told you I would have this Book, Melinda," sneered Owain as he picked it up.

He slipped out of the room and into the living room and sat himself down in a comfortable loveseat beside the unlit fireplace. A twitch of his wrist set a roaring fire going, but the flames did not dance or cast light beyond the loveseat. Owain opened the green-bound book and paged through it with perfect ease. He mused and muttered as he flipped pages and smiled at others almost as if he was looking at a family photo album. Finally, his perusal of the tome ceased. He stopped on a page written not in English, but in French.

Owain grinned in triumph. "Ah; I thought they would be smart enough to never copy you. Their Grams would have a fit if she ever found out." His smile turned into smirk as he ripped the page out of the book. "Just in case he doesn't see everything my way, Melinda, my love."

Owain strode back into the room and replaced the book. He slid the door closed and re-set the wards around the closet.

His eyes settled on Anakin, still fast asleep, and he moved over to the bed and sat down next to him, looking down at the eighteen-year-old in victory.

"So sweet; so innocent," he whispered, brushing Anakin's hair off his forehead. "Yet you live a double life, Anakin, just like your foremother. Neither of you could see how your life so intricately affected everyone around you. Your foremother, Melinda, hurt me, Anakin. She nearly turned me good; against all reason, I fell in love with her. But she failed to turn me, thanks to the timely implications by William Tate." Owain made a face. "Always hated that warlock. Now, two centuries later, I have come back to repay my debt to the Warren-Halliwell clan. So don't take anything that happens next too personally, even if it _is_ entirely your fault."

With a feral grin, Owain bent down and kissed Anakin on the lips. He breathed into the sleeping Halliwell, taking his time. He closed his eyes and smirked as he felt Anakin begin to writhe. He pulled back, licking his lips. He watched the young man break out into sweats.

"Au revoir for now, my young friend."

_The park is in full bloom. Everything in the world proclaims its happiness from the chirping birds, to the broad grins on children's faces as they dart past him. But even the bright and sunny day cannot lift his spirits. His mind is focused on the events of a dream, more like a vision, and they are not happy memories. He gently kicks a stone along the pathway to release some of his pent up energy, careful to never bring attention to his actions. Further down the path is his mother Piper, despite her hair graying, still as commanding and energetic as when she was thirty. Next to her carrying a large picnic basket is his father, Leo, silent and smiling like always. Carrying the red and white blanket is his dark-haired twenty-three-year-old brother, Christopher, who is also engaging in a heated discussion with Prue. Both of them are thoroughly unaware of the annoyed glances Piper keeps throwing them. _

_Behind the two bickering siblings stand Wyatt and Sarah Halliwell, his fianceé and mother of his son. They are legally married, name changed and all, but Piper refuses to call Sarah "Wyatt's wife" until the ceremony that weekend. The matriarch, however, has no problem with Sarah using Halliwell as her last name already. The two lovers walk hand-in-hand, smiling and oblivious to the rest of the world except for their son. Zachary Taylor Halliwell walks, having refused to ride in his stroller, in between his parents' legs perfectly happy with the world. _

_Zach takes after his father in eye color and hair. Even at one, he had blond curls that receives comments from every female he meets. His blue eyes are innocent and happy. That gives him great hope and, yet, creates a knot in his stomach. Everything else, however, is from his mother. In his mind Zach is perfect and he would do anything to keep his nephew that way._

_The trip to the park has his mind racing. His dreams the week prior to the trip are foreboding, but despite his objections, Piper and Sarah decide to carry on . Sure, his mind is not wholly unsettled by the half-premonitions; he is mostly worried about the glimpses he received from Lucien. But the premonitions have their place in his concern. He has seen the grimlocks attack a group of children, but every night, the group is different. One night it may be his mother and Aunts Phoebe and Prue in their adolescence. Another night, the scene is of the grimlocks attacking Wyatt and Chris before even Prue has been born. The it is of Phoebe's young daughters being blinded by the hideous demons. The last one, the one that finally makes him say something to his family, is the most graphic and gruesome of them all. _

_The attack happens in broad daylight before the eyes of the entire family. Two grimlocks emerge from the bushes boarding the play area. The demons focus their attention on Zach. He runs to protect his nephew. He punches and kicks. He knocks out teeth and breaks bones, but nothing stops the demons' progress. One of them grabs hold of his neck and squeezes, cutting off his air. He feels something snap as the blackness creeps across his vision. But the darkness does not come quick enough. He sees the other demon snatch the screaming Zach by the arm and silence the one-year-old with an athame to the throat. Blood spurts everywhere as unconsciousness takes him._

_Piper and Sarah dismiss the premonition. It has been ages since a serious threat was posed against the Halliwell family. Demons never stop their attacks on innocents, but they have stopped coming after the Charmed Ones and their offspring. Ever since the death of Jonathan, the Underworld remains wary of provoking the Halliwells into action. Why would they start now? That is a question that plagues his mind as he keeps watch for any signs of an attack. It is the reason why he removes himself from the picture of that day. _

_The attack happens, just not to Zach; another witch family is attacked that day and is practically wiped out down to their six-month-old daughter. The premonition is a warning, a prodding for him to act, but he is too self-absorbed to see all the possibilities and an innocent child suffers the ultimate price because of it. He, of course, keeps those thoughts to himself. His family is already on edge because of his suicide attempt. But it does not stop him from blaming himself for the loss. A six-month-old's family was destroyed because of him: how could he ever live with that?_

_His bedroom is a mess still despite his mother's orders for him to clean it up. He does not have time for mundane tasks. Besides, the room is not total chaos. His clothes are in the closet, albeit in a pile on the floor, but closing the door hides the mess. His desk is as organized as it is ever going to be. Everything on the computer desk— papers, textbooks, and pens—are necessary for him to do his homework every day. What's the point of packing them away every day if he would just be unpacking them again anyway? His bed is made or at least the top cover is pulled neatly and covers the unruly lump of sheets and pillows. Everything else that is lying around would be stuffed in his backpack when he left for school the following morning. All in all, he concludes his room is in fact perfectly in order. He knows, of course, if he says as much to his mother, he would have his head blown off. So he just agrees with mutterings and nods of his head when she asks him to clean it up._

_He walks past his desk and pulls open his closet, searching for his running clothes. Finding his white shorts and red v-neck underneath his growing pile of unpaired socks, he emerges from the closet and closes the door. He shakes out his clothing and lays them on his queen-sized bed before he slips off his clothes. In haste he dresses, walks into the adjourning bathroom, and brushes a few stray hairs flat against his head. _

_Giving himself a once-over he is amazed how similar Wyatt and he are. His friends say he looked like a cross between a young Zac Efron and the boy-next-door. Upon hearing this, Wyatt, on the other hand, found this thoroughly offensive. He chuckles inwardly. Brilliant blue eyes, which his mom says sparkle like the Pacific Ocean, stare back at him. He is tall at six-foot-one, and hopes to stay that height. He exercises to stay lean and fit; not quite Christopher's swimmer's body but definitely not the well-built quarterback stature of Wyatt. He is a happy medium. _

_His hair is cut slightly longer than the average haircut of the day. He convinced his mother and father to allow him to dye it a few shades darker. Instead of the blinding pale yellow hair he was born with, he now has sandy blond hair. He takes one last look in the mirror and leaves the bathroom._

"_Going out?" Prue asks as he passes her on the stairs._

"_Just for a jog." He returns her thousand-watt smile, a physical feature they all inherited from Piper. _

_Prue nods, impressed. "Sounds like fun."_

_He grins; running is the last thing Prue would ever do. _

_She shakes her head. "You know what I mean, Annie. Don't forget that you promised to help bless the charm bracelet Wyatt is going to give to Sarah."_

"_Oh shit," he swears and checks his wristwatch. "When's he supposed to be here?"_

"_Right now!" Wyatt yells from the front door. "Does Mom allow that type of language now?"_

"_Stop with the sarcasm," he snaps, giving his eldest brother a hug. "How long are you going to be here?"_

_Wyatt shrugs as he gives Prue a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I've got class in three hours and Sarah likes to have lunch before then." Wyatt breaks off, lost in his thoughts. "So an hour?"_

"_Are you asking or telling?" teases Prue._

"_Well, you go greet Mom and Dad," he cuts off Wyatt's sure-to-be witty retort, "And I'll meet you in the attic in … let's say, half an hour."_

"_Sounds great," Wyatt agrees as he places a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for the help, man; it means a lot to me."_

_He nods and gives him a small, knowing smile. "It's no problem, Wy. You'd do the same thing for me in a heartbeat."_

"_Chris here yet?"_

_Prue shakes her head. "He said he'd be here in fifteen minutes. His roommate forgot to set the alarm and he overslept."_

_He turns to leave. "I'll be back."_

_Wyatt and Prue disappear into the dining room, absorbed by their discussion. He grins then; he __**had**__ saved his family. He heads to the front door and sees the distorted dark figure of Lucien standing on the front porch. The smile is back on his face, and he opens the door ready to pull Lucien inside for a kiss. But when the door opens, the scene causes him to freeze._

_Lucien stands on the porch staring out at the street. He wears a matted, hole-ridden, yellowing trench coat. The trench coat is peppered with scorch marks and patches of gray powder, which he quickly recognizes as ash; not Lucien's usual attire. Luc's curly black hair is covered with the sooty remains: demons; some parts are caked in barely dry blood._

"_Lucien!" he cries in shock, heart pounding. He runs to him and envelops him in a hug, which is accepted stiffly. _

"_What happened?" He yells._

_Brown eyes stare blankly at him. "Lost her … the demon, too powerful – ripped right through my fire shield. She came – because I called for her."_

_Lucien looks not at him but past him, gaze still unfocused. He bites his lip, waiting for the rest of the story. _

"_Darklighters joined – five arrows and then—" Lucien swallows dryly. "Then she was gone." _

"_The demon got her, a fireball to the chest. I can't – she can't...."_

_He glances back at the Manor, pensive, but he decides against going back inside. "Come one, Luc; let's take a walk."_

_He wraps an arm around his boyfriend, eyes tearing up. He gently leads his despondent boyfriend down the front steps and toward the neighborhood park another four blocks away, keeping a comforting grip on Lucien's hand, but staying silent. This was not the place for questions; he would wait until they were in the park and could sit down. For now, he took comfort in Lucien coming to the Manor and not going on a suicide revenge mission. His blue eyes glance sideways periodically to watch him. While the teen is keeping in step with him, it is clear his mind is elsewhere._

_He waves good naturedly at the occasional person from school he passes, but mainly the few people he sees ignore him and he happily does not strike up a conversation They have good reason to avoid contact with him__;__ after all__,__ Lucien is not precisely presentable at the moment. But he does not care. Let them think whatever they want. The only person that matters is Lucien._

_They reach the park. He has a cold knot in his stomach, a feeling he only gets when something bad is going to happen. His heart beats a bit faster, and the coldness spreads. Closing his eyes he takes a few deep breaths before leading them down the path in the direction of the benches._

_Suddenly he finds Lucien standing under a tree. Lucien has taken off his trench coat and is busy stuffing it into a trash can. This is the first time He truly notices Lucien's eyes. They are blood red and puffy, but no tears are apparent. All of Lucien's efforts are concentrated on pushing the ruined coat as deeply as possible into the trash can, so he is able to reach the brown-haired elemental without drawing attention to himself._

"_Need some help?"_

"_I'm fine," Lucien mutters, removing his hands and brushing them against his jeans. "Why are we here?"_

"_Thought you wouldn't want to be swarmed by my family—Wyatt arrived just before you did. And Chris was coming over. Just thought that we could spend a few moments alone, that's all. Do you want to go back?"_

"_No," Lucien quickly rejects. He shakes his head and averts his gaze. "I should have gone home. Shouldn't have bothered you."_

"_Don't be stupid, Luc," he gently whispers. He bends down so he is looking into Lucien's eyes. "I love you. I want to be here for you, and wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Come on, the benches are a little bit further off."_

_Lucien nods and starts walking without guidance. "There were so many of them. Haven't seen that many since the last big battle."_

_He nods, knowing Lucien is talking about the battle against Jonathan. It is a sore topic, and one they have frequently argued about, especially recently. "There might be a new leader rising. I'll talk to Dad about it."_

_Lucien closes his eyes and sniffles. "If I hadn't called her—"_

"_You can't think like that, Luc," he presses as he draped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "She would have come anyway. She was your whitelighter; the second you got seriously hurt she'd have been there."_

"_Still." _

_Lucien sits at the first bench they pass. He slumps in defeat. "It might have been different; something might have changed."_

"_It's not your fault, Luc," he says a bit more forcefully. "Whatever happened, it's not your fault. You can't beat yourself like this. Believe me, I know; it doesn't work."_

"_This is different, Annie." He sighs, staring out over the small duck pond across from them. "You went back and fixed everything. I can't do that … I have to live with this for the rest of my life."_

"_So do I." Sighing, he closes his eyes. "I dream about the battles – the fights, the losses, every night. Just because I have my family doesn't mean it changes what happened to the other Anakin. One thing he taught me was that even with all the horrible memories, all the terrible things that happened it does no good to dwell on them. We have to grieve and move on, otherwise the grief will consume us until it pulls us under. There's no turning back from that."_

"_But he wasn't the cause of those things," Lucien seethes after a lengthy silence. "But I more or less killed her, Annie. How do you live with that?"_

_He shrugs. "You can't. But like I said, you didn't kill her. It's like you told me earlier: the demon did, and we will go out and vanquish that demon."_

"_I was so sure it would be him this time," Lucien mutters to himself. "So sure…"_

_He bites his tongue. "Mmm-hmm…"_

"_Don't do that," Lucien snaps suddenly. "Just don't."_

"_Come on, Luc…"_

"_NO!" Lucien leaps to his feet. "Don't start, Anakin."_

"_Alright," he whispers docilely. "I wasn't going to."_

_Lucien nods, spearing him with a steely glare. "He's out there, Anakin. I swear he is; I can feel it."_

"_But we vanquished him, Lucien."_

_Lucien growls and stalks off. Frowning, Anakin jumps up and follows at a distance. A few feet down the path, Lucien comes to a halt. "Why, Anakin?"_

_Brow furrowing, Anakin asks, "Why what?"_

"_Why say that?" yells Lucien. "Yes, we vanquished him or at least we think we did. But he was powerful; you said so yourself. What if we were able to save himself?"_

_The cold knot in his stomach is becoming unbearable. "No demon could survive that vanquish, Luc. It's just not possible."_

"_He wasn't all demon," Lucien mutters, walking again. "He was my brother, which means he was human as well."_

"_But he gave himself over to evil." He felt like he has said this thousands of times before. "He didn't have humanity in him when he died. The part of him that was your brother was killed a long time ago."_

"_That's not true! He begged for the vanquish in the end. That says something."_

Yeah, that he was insane_, he thinks. "But it doesn't prove anything. And let's say for a moment that it was possible for him to have survived. Why hasn't he attacked or at least contacted anyone?"_

"_He might still be recovering."_

_He forces himself to not roll his eyes and tries to keep up with Lucien. "Look, whatever happened to him, Luc, it's not your problem to solve."_

"_Like hell it's not." Lucien abruptly stops and rounds on him. "He's my BROTHER! You of all people should know what that is like."_

_He swallows. They fought, but Lucien never looks at him like that. The look has a clear meaning: I hate you. _

_The knot explodes, and he feels his world spinning out of control. He knows what happens next; he has lived it before. His breath quickens, and the world fades away._


	3. I Just Wanna Live

I Just Wanna Live

_The world was still a blur around me. Colors blended into themselves, shapes never took form. And somehow it was in this nauseating world that I found a glimmer of hope. The visual assault was easier to bear than the mental agony stopping would bring. If I stopped, I will kill. The thirst was too powerful to ignore—if I smelt blood…_

_So I run. No rest, never a moment's rest. It was too hazardous._

_But no matter how far or how fast I run, I can never escape the memories. The things I had done; horrors I had committed. Lives I took without hesitation or thought. My anonymous victims were enough for any to call me a monster, but I had turned on family. That was unforgivable._

_I stopped once. The memories of roads flooded with blood, of whole towns slaughter for pleasure became too much. Screams from faceless victims echoed with nothing to drown them out. I had to stop. I needed to feel the world around me._

_I was in Eastern Europe, the birthplace of my kind. I could smell them. And it was different from those I had dealt with in America. The smell was ancient—more feral, more steeped in evil. _

_Images from their minds swam across my vision. Thousands of women slaughtered and defiled. Children left bleeding in their beds for their parents to find. Babies murdered in the arms of their stunned mothers. _

_I despised them almost as much as I loathed myself. Their cruel acts paled in comparison to the nightmare I had unleashed during my brief reign of terror. _

_They also stank of an even greater evil. The longer I lingered the more got inklings of a being even I feared._

_The vampires of old had worshiped the Great Evil, the one who turned Hellequin and others down the path of darkness and the first true immortal to step onto the physical world. Other lesser Powers followed him; each created their own breed to corrupt the world. Brendan formed darklighters. Harlequin fashioned creatures in his own image: fear-inspiring beings, wraiths never to truly exist, and plagues on humanity's subconscious. Some found favor in Lucifer's eyes, becoming the first demons. _

_Yet all of these Powers quaked in the presence of the Great Evil. Even Lucifer in all his splendor never challenged him. And now _he_ was calling out to the corrupted Powers. He was building an army. I could feel it in the core of my being. _

_Aeglaeca was preparing for war._

In a dark room on the other side of the world, Owain's eyes snapped open. Straightening his suit, he grinned victoriously. The visions had been cloudy and dim, but the message was clear. He was close to achieving his ultimate goal. The powerful being kneaded a painful knot in his lower neck. Even for him, the powers evoked to spy on another's thoughts were draining, but the effort would soon prove to be well worth the minor physical annoyance.

_Time to call in the help_. Owain rolled his chair over to the small desk holding his computer. From the sole drawer, he pulled out a potion. Potions attracted less attention than powers. Breaking the vial in his hand, he allowed the dark liquid to dribble down his slender fingers. Drop by drop, the potion fell to the dusty cement floor. Impatience shook his hand as the last of the potion mixed with his blood and added to the growing puddle at his feet.

The potion began to bubble and foam.

He placed the bloodstained shards on his desk. Annoyed, he plucked a remaining sliver from his wounded hand as dark smoke swirled out of the spilt potion. The spilling of his blood was necessary for the potion to work, but that did not mean he had to enjoy the pain. There were much more useful feelings to experience. Disgusted, he roughly wiped away the remaining blood with a handkerchief.

The smoke darkened, becoming more of a shadow than a cloud. The ethereal form slowed and took the shape of a massive, fierce hound. Muscles rippled beneath the shadowy skin, and Owain was reminded of a rocky beach in the aftermath of an oil spill. The fully formed wraith let out a low growl. Furious red eyes glared at Owain, expectantly.

"Search the deep forests of Hungary. Bring him back alive."

The wraith bared its dripping fangs.

Not one to be intimidated, Owain smirked. "Take as many as you need. He is not to be underestimated, but I want him alive. _Alive_, Beast."

He dismissed the powerful being with a wave of his hand. The wraith rippled into a cloud of thick black smoke. Owain watched curiously as shadows reached out and dragged the inky cloud into the floor. Slowly, Beast's lingering tendrils slithered into the darkness and were gone.

One last act of defiance, he mused.

His train of thought abruptly ended when a distant clock chimed. A deep breath was all he needed to recompose himself. Capturing the last Power outside of his control—well, it was beyond description. And he would have loved to actually be a part of the hunting party. But he had other aspects of his plan to set in motion before the night was done.

Meticulous planning and unimaginable patience meant he had a noose around his enemy's neck, and they were none the wiser. He was not going to risk them getting ahead of him when victory was so close at hand. Years of watching others fail miserably had taught him one thing: never expect victory. Like wild animals, good was most dangerous when cornered.

He straightened his tie as he outlined the agenda for the night. Absorbed in thought, Owain grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. He paused briefly to magically seal his office. Once in the short basement corridor, he called out for yet another of his pawns.

"Miley!"

A twenty-something female demon appeared out of thin air. Beautiful to a fault with flowing brown hair, Miley could and usually did make men act more stupid than they already were. Owain acknowledged her subservient gaze with a smirk. He knew seductresses very well, and the one before him was no different from the rest. Power hungry and incredibly manipulative, they were a very powerful and very deadly breed of demon. Miley, on many occasions, had tried to vanquish him. But she had proven her value to his operation enough times for him to put up with her ambitious attempts to seduce him.

Now was not the time to allow her to push her own agenda, however: he needed her focused on her job. He needed to remind her of her place in the demonic pecking order. So ignoring her advances, he started up the stairs. He had a taxi to catch.

"Owain?" she called out, her voice like oil on water .

He continued to ignore her, forcing her to follow him out of the building. He kept silent until he reached the curb.

"What is the word on the death in Anakin's building?"

When she spoke, Owain could hear the frustration in her tone.

"The police have been notified, _sir_. And I enticed my boss to allow me to handle the case."

"Good, good." Owain summoned a taxi. He turned to face the demoness. "I want an update after you have spoken with Anakin."

Miley licked her lips; her expression caught between worried and hungry. "Did it work?"

He decided to appease her. The question was harmless enough. "He dreamt, but he is more resistant to my magic than I anticipated."

A yellow sedan pulled up in front of them, and Owain was pleasantly surprised when Miley opened the door for him. Perhaps old demons could learn new tricks. He sat down and leveled her with a stern gaze.

"I'll call the second I'm done."

He was about to remind her not to be foolish when her cell phone rang. He waited patiently for her to confirm it was the D.A.'s office.

"It's work."

"Do not screw this up, Miley." Owain pulled the door closed. "455 Madison Avenue."

He closed his eyes and smiled smugly as the taxi slid into the already busy morning traffic.

Anakin woke to blue and red lights blaring through the blinds of his bedroom window. Stifling a yawn, he crawled out of bed. He walked over to the offending window and peeked through the blinds. The street below was buzzing with activity. Police cars and other emergency vehicles had taken over a large part of the street. Yellow crime scene tape was already draped creating a perimeter at which a crowd had gathered.

Amongst the crowd he sensed his sister and after a moment's search vaguely could make her out along with her fiancé. Fury flared deep within him. This had nothing to do with him; he was perfectly safe. And he was capable of dealing with whatever had happened. There was no demon holding an athame to his neck. And certainly no darklighter arrow piercing his heart. Why did his family insist on making every little thing so much bigger than it was?

He inwardly groaned and summoned his cell phone. It barely started to ring before he answered it.

"Hello?" he answered, moving back to the window. "Yes, Prue, I'm fine… I'll come out in a second… Of course I'm sure! Yeah, whatever. I'm on my way."

He snapped the phone shut before she could complain about his attitude. He was exhausted and looking for a fight. Not the best mindset to be in when speaking to his sister. Returning the phone to its spot on the night table, he went in search of clothes.

What on Earth could have gone so wrong? It could not be demonic; he would have woken up. Yet Prue was outside. All his current familial struggles aside it took a lot to spook his sister. He pulled on his shirt with that troubling thought echoing in his mind. The ear splitting clang that was his doorbell interrupted further worrying and seething.

"I'M COMING!" Fine, not the seething.

The person at the door was clearly impatient; he started banging on the door. Get a grip! Anakin took his time; he was not in the mood to be accommodating. The banging became pounding by the time he had collected his phone and keys. Not one to be out done he pressed his luck further by checking on the wards protecting his Book of Shadows. He entered the living room and the knocking stopped.

Anakin unlocked and unbolted the door. He opened the door far enough to stick his head out. "Yes?"

"Mr. Anakin Halliwell?" inquired a uniformed officer.

He repeated himself, "Yes?"

"Your presence has been requested by the ADA downstairs."

Anakin frowned and gave the officer the once over. He could not place his finger on it, but something about the man bothered him.

"They asked for me in particular?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Right—sorry."

Anakin still did not open the door. He did not sense any animosity directed toward him, but the nagging in the back of his mind did not let up. He double-checked; the guy was not a demon. What the heck at least if the guy went psycho, he could work off some of his frustrations. He opened the door.

"Lead the way."

The officer nodded and spun around on his heels. Anakin pulled the door shut not bothering to lock it. The ride in the elevator was silent—creepy silent. He kept one eye on his "escort" the whole way down. When the doors started to open he could not help but let out a sigh of relief.

He allowed his mind to wander once they reached the lobby. It was just as crowded and chaotic as the street outside. He spotted the reason for the whole commotion behind the security desk. The old guard was still in his seat, but his skin was too pale and a liver probe was protruding from of his rotund stomach. The smell of latex and baby powder assaulted his nostrils as they walked past.

"What happened to him?"

"Damned if I know," the officer hissed.

The officer led him to a small alcove away from the swarm of investigators. The ADA was waiting patiently. When he took in the woman before him, he halfway questioned if he really was gay. Everything in him screamed for things that could not be done in public. She was attractive, stunning, and just plain hot. Now he understood the officer's demeanor. If she could make him think those thought, he could not imagine the effect she had on a straight guy.

"Fine, send the report to my office." She gave the officer she was talking to a smile. "Thank you."

The officer did not immediately leave, and her attitude quickly shifted to hostility. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

That shocked Anakin out of his stupor. No more questions of his sexuality drifted through his head. He watched the hapless officer stumbled over his own feet as he muttered apologies and disappeared out of the dimly lit corner.

The ADA looked at Anakin's escort. "That will be all. Thank you." Another big seductive smile.

Anakin watched the man lighten up with delight before leaving. _Quick leaner_. He focused his attention on the lawyer as she sat down gracefully in a worn-out chair. He studied her for a moment before taking a step forward. Maybe God does make a few gorgeous women.

"You're welcome to take a seat, Anakin. I don't bite; I promise." She grinned sweetly.

Anakin nodded. "Yes—ah—thanks."

She waited until he was seated before extending her hand. "I'm Miley Mabel."

"Anakin Halliwell."

Miley gently let go of his hand and pulled out a yellow notepad and a pen. "Well let's get this nasty business over with, shall we?" She glanced over at him and smiled again. "As you saw on your way here there was a murder tonight. The detectives were going through the log books, and you were the last person to have a guest enter the building before the death was called in."

"My sister brought me dinner." He blinked and relaxed. At least now he knew why he had been singled out. "I just moved in from the West Coast."

"So you sister was your visitor. When did she leave?"

"About ten or so; she helped me unpack a couple of boxes before leaving."

"Ten. Alright." Miley lifted up her pen. "And you went to bed once she left?"

"Yes," He nodded staring into her deep brown eyes. "Straight to bed."

"Well, that's great," She smiled and batted her eyelashes. "I just need you to be printed and then you are free to go."

"That's all?" He asked.

"That's it," Miley assured him.

Anakin stood up; he was being dismissed. As he walked over to the waiting investigator, coldness settled in the pit of his stomach. Someone was watching him and not in an innocent fashion. He tried to find the source of the feelings, but all he saw were people doing their jobs. Shaking the feeling he settled into the chair and waited for more instructions.

"You know, it's nice to know that you're going to be a bit longer than you say you will," Prue admonished when he finally reached them half an hour later than he expected.

Anakin rolled his eyes. Like it was his fault that he had been delayed? "Give me a break. The police needed me to make a statement."

"A statement?" Prue eyed the building. "For what?"

"You were the last person to see the security guard alive. They wanted to know what you were doing in the building."

Come to think of it, he thought, the ADA had not actually asked for his sister's name. Halliwell was not a common name, but he had met a few people with the same surname. The niggling feeling started all over again. He had missed something, or just did not know whether he saw or heard anything of significance.

"Oh," Prue glanced over at Kyle, and they shared a look. "So they questioned you, and then you came right out here?"

"Yip. I would have gotten out sooner, but they wanted to rule out my fingerprints at the crime scene."

"And you're OK?" she asked, switching over to concern.

Anakin stared at his sister, trying to determine just how dense she really was. No demon meant it was not magical. No magic meant it had nothing to do with him. Sure, he had liked the guard, but he had met the man twice. An old man dying of a heart attack was not anything to fret over, murder or not.

"I'm fine, Prue."

"Attitude," Kyle warned quietly.

Anakin glanced dismissively at him. "Nice to see you too, Kyle."

Kyle raised his eyebrows and stepped back, surrendering the situation to Prue, who pursed her lips. "It wouldn't hurt you to be civil to him," she reprimanded in low voice so only Anakin heard it. He nodded, but knew he would not take the advice to heart quite yet. "So you are going to spend the night at mine and Payton's place Payton's out for the rest of the week according to the latest message on the machine, so you can sleep in her bed. We'll eat breakfast together, and then I'll drop you off at campus to register and all that."

Anakin chewed on his tongue. For all of Prue's good attributes, she was too much like their mother. They both had to be in charge, especially in stressful situations. He let out a breath. "Alright. Under the condition you do not phone Mom and Dad."

She smiled sheepishly. "Not happening, kiddo."

He whimpered. "They're already freaked out about me moving across the country."

"Yeah, and so I'm keeping them updated about what's happening," she defended. "I know you certainly aren't going to phone them enough."

"I left the Manor _yesterday_!" he snapped, exasperated. He ran his hand through his hair and his mouth worked its way into an expression of annoyance. Who was she to accuse him of being a bad son?

Prue turned him around. He took in the sight of his apartment building cordoned off with yellow tape.

"I think they'd expect you to phone them for this."

"But it has nothing to do with me!" he said and spun back to face her. "A very nice old man had a heart attack and died. What's so important about that for Mom and Dad to know?"

"How about the fact that he died on the night that you moved in?" Prue retorted. "Annie, you cannot forget that you are the most powerful witch next to Wyatt. The entire Underworld is just drooling to catch you off guard and kill you or turn you." She was careful to not say any magical words loud enough for the people around them to hear, making her rant sound rather comical.

Anakin rolled his eyes and breathed out in a short angry burst. "This is not demonic. It's a fu—it's a heart attack!"

"Don't talk to her like that," snapped Kyle, stepping back in.

Anakin glared at him, a newly entitled lawyer, but he continued to talk to his sister. "All you've done is give them fuel to keep their stupid idea that I'm too at risk to be living by myself."

Prue was very mild tempered, having inherited mostly her father's whitelighter traits. But then there were times that she would transform into the spitting image of a younger Mother Bear Piper. "And what if they're right, Anakin? Are you so stubborn that only your death will prove to you that you need your family?"

He bit off his response. An angry Prue would not get him anywhere. She may be a part of the problem, but she was not the root of it. "Fine, I get it. I'm the most wanted witch alive, but I still want a _life_, Prue."

"Which is why I helped you convince everyone that you could make it out here on your own. But part of that deal was that you would allow me to help you if something happened."

"Something like a demon attack," he snapped, whispering the 'd' word.

Prue nodded. "Yes, we meant anything," she paused and mouthed "magical" before continuing, "but you can't fault me for being on the careful side. The police obviously think it's something more than just a heart attack if they're searching for suspects and witnesses."

Anakin had to shut his mouth in order to not come back with a sarcastic and hurtful response. He was tired and his temper was getting the better of him. The headache, which had been steadily growing since his interview with the ADA, certainly was not helping his mood or patience.

The blond rubbed his temples and stared up into the starless night sky. There really was no use arguing over things already in the past. Whatever the fallout from the call could be dealt with as long as Prue was on his side. He turned to see a pair of medical examiners wheeling a gurney carrying the guard's body draped with opaque white plastic toward an ambulance.

He took another deep breath and turned to face Prue again. "Let's go. I'm tired."

Prue breathed a sigh of relief. "The car's parked down the next street."

She led the way and he followed along with Kyle taking up the rear. Kyle was carefully examining him to which Anakin glared but made no comment. The tension between himself and his sister's fiancé would have to be resolved another day when Prue was less on edge.

And Kyle hoped he could break through Anakin's icy exterior. They had a lot more in common than the young witch cared to acknowledge. They both had overbearing mothers, although he would trade his mother for Piper in a heartbeat. At least Piper was loving; his mother was power hungry and saw him as her way to the White House. Kyle let his thoughts trail off.

Sensing Kyle had drifted off in thought, Anakin switched his attention from rebuffing the lawyer to trying to figure out what was bothering him. A large part of him already knew, but he refused to give in. This was more than just an old man dying. There had been someone evil in the building; it was the only way to explain everything. The cold feeling had left a greasy stain on his consciousness. He had been the target of some very deadly thoughts. He slowed his pace; the headache was getting worse. A dose of Advil would fix it, but at the moment, walking very draining.

They had just passed one of the flickering streetlights when the pain suddenly flared. White flashed across his vision, and his legs crumpled. Only the nearby dustbin kept him from falling flat on his face.

"You OK?" Kyle asked.

"My head. It's killing me."

Prue looked over at Kyle. "Sweetie, go get the car and bring it here." Kyle nodded and took the offered keys. "You need to sit, Annie."

Anakin slowly slid down the outside of the trashcan until his bottom met the cold, dirty sidewalk. Sitting alleviated some of the pounding, but still silent tears blurred his vision. "Got any Advil?"

"Sorry. The house isn't far, though."

She tried to sound reassuring, but the whole list of events from the night had her on edge. And now Annie was—was sick. Whatever whitelighter blood she had inherited had not passed on the gift of being calm under stress. She drew random patterns across her shaking brother's shoulders just like their mother would do when they were sick.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead and leaned heavily on his hands. "It's not hurt this bad since I had those dreams."

Prue bit her lip. "Think it's the other Anakin trying to tell you something?"

The last time she had seen her brother crumple under any type of pain was ages ago. When he was merging memories with the other Anakin. And she had almost lost him then. The pain had been far too much. And now it was back. Her heart pounded.

"No," he could barely talk. The sound of his own voice was too excruciating. "He's not spoken to me for a long time. This is something else."

"Demonic?"

Anakin smiled for a brief moment. "No demon's going to be stupid enough to attack us, Prue." Wishing he actually believed himself.

She opened her mouth to argue a point she had made barely fifteen minutes ago, but another gasp of pain from Anakin shut her up. She looked around wondering what was taking Kyle so long with the car and placed her hand on Anakin's shoulder, squeezing gently and offering reassurance. Anakin smiled weakly, but it did little to abate her fears. She could not lose her brother; not again.

On the other side of the street, she noticed a man dressed in a long brown trench coat with a massive black dog at his side. Prue shivered involuntarily and looked away, trying to ignore them. Every bone in her body knew that something was wrong with the way the canine was watching them, but she could not do anything about it. Her brother needed her…

_Anakin spun around. His surroundings had changed drastically. Instead of the buildings, streets, and lampposts, there were massive trees, rotting leaves, and damp dirt. The __atmosphere__ had changed as well. Gone was the comforting __smell__ of Prue's shampoo and the familiar one of dusty streets. These were replaced with __scents that reminded__ Anakin of the few times his family had gone camping. He __got a whiff of __the damp earth beneath his feet and the faint but pungent putrid __stench__ of rotting flesh. There was a flutter of leaves and feathers above him, and the small clearing he had found himself in was suddenly filled with creatures._

_The beasts that had appeared out of puffs of thick black smoke were nothing like anything he had seen before. They were massive, at least the size of a male grizzly bear if not bigger. With heads like a Doberman Pinscher on steroids the creatures foamed at the mouth and bore their intimidating fangs. Beady black eyes pierced him, sending a tremor of fear down his spine. _

_Wicked long claws sprouted from the massive passive and seven whip-like tails with lives of their own completed the creatures' visible arsenal. _

_Anakin scrambled backwards ready to fight, but the creatures paid no attention to him. A frown wrinkled his brow, and he turned to see what caught Hell's hounds' notice. Behind him, looking absolutely spent and drained of life, stood Hellequin. But when Anakin gazed into his tired eyes he knew that the person in front of him was not Hellequin. They were exactly like Lucien's eyes the day they had broken up. Anakin's breath caught in his throat._

"_Hellequin," growled one of the creatures._

_Despite his weary appearance, Jonathan's voice was strong and as powerful as ever. "Beast."_

_The demon dog with glowing red eyes appeared to smile. "Aeglaeca has an offer you won't want to turn down."_

_Jonathan frowned. "Aeglaeca? Why would he have an offer for me?"_

_Anakin shifted his gaze from Hellequin to Beast and back again trying to determine what was going on. Aeglaeca was not a demon he knew of. Confusion mixed with his apprehension as the conversation continued._

_Beast chuckled. "The memories will come from Hellequin when the time is right."_

_Jonathan continued to frown. "I am Hellequin."_

"_Don't insult me, __**Jonathan**__," Beast growled, his tails twisting with increased agitation. "I know my creator when I see him."_

_Anakin eyed Jonathan, trying to make sense of the barrage of information. Jonathan tilted his head slowly and seemed for a moment to look directly at him before returning his gaze to the red-eyed dog._

_Beast pawed the ground. "Aeglaeca requests you visit him. He has need of Hellequin's skills. He is willing to offer you the chance to take down your would-be killers in exchange for Hellequin's powers."_

_Jonathan's eyes flashed dangerously. "And why would I need his help in taking down the Halliwells? Beast, go tell your new master I'm not interested. And if he harms the Halliwells, he'll be sorry."_

_Beast looked to his sides and the other snarling wraiths began to close ranks, cornering Anakin and Jonathan. "That is not an option. He wants your powers and Aeglaeca always gets want he wants."_

_Beast flicked his tails, and the wraiths attacked. Anakin tried to freeze the scene, but the wraiths charged right through him. The creatures fell on Jonathan with such numbers and force Anakin was surprised he was able to beat them back. Even with his superhuman strength and speed he could see Jonathan would quickly be overwhelmed._

_The wraiths attacked with claws and teeth and with the ferocity of hungry predators. Other wraiths were using their whip-like tails to cut at Jonathan's skin. Where the tails broke the skin the wounds began to bubble and turn a sickening green. The attack continued until Anakin was sure Jonathan would collapse from sheer exhaustion. Beast went in for a bite at the vampire's leg, only to be thrown a couple of feet backwards by a telekinetic blast. Jonathan's eyes turned a brilliant gold and all the wraiths were blown backwards. Anakin felt the power wash over him but was unaffected by the colossal wave of magic. _

_Beast was back on his feet in seconds. "Jonathan," he growled, his teeth bared, "give up. You cannot win."_

"_Try me!"_

_Beast sprang at Jonathan murder in his ruby eyes._

_Anakin's breath caught in his throat. Jonathan was dead; the wraith was too fast and powerful. He shut his eyes not able to watch the slaughter. There was a pained whelp and a crack of a whip. He peeked out with one squinted eye and saw Jonathan dissolve into the wind. Eyes wide he cringed at Beast howl of frustration. The scene faded into black, but even that could not quell his astonishment. Jonathan had survived…he was alive!_

A day had passed since the murder. Anakin spent it locked up in his apartment, sleeping off his migraine. Prue, however, had other plans and dragged him off to a club.

"I really don't like clubs," Anakin protested as they, plus Kyle, took seats at the bar close to the dance floor.

"Well, it's not like you could stay in your apartment, Annie," she said remorselessly. "Just water, Kyle," she added as Kyle ordered drinks. She turned to face him. "Mom's put me under strict orders to keep you in my sights at all times, and I can't back out of this appearance."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, and I'd have told her that if you had let me near the damn phone." He caught the glass the bartender pushed his way. "Thanks," he said to both the barman and Kyle. "I'm perfectly capable of spending a night by myself."

"Considering that's never happened before." Prue trailed off.

"And whose fault is that?" he shot back.

"No need to be so rude," Kyle butted in defensively.

Anakin glowered at Kyle, ready to shoot a witty but sighed and collapsed onto the counter. "Wake me up when you're done."

Prue placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder, holding him back. "He's just being dramatic. It's what we Halliwells do best."

"I'm not being dramatic." Anakin's muffled voice could barely be heard over the thrumming music. "I'm just telling you I'm going to sleep and you can wake me up when you're ready to leave."

"It's ten o'clock," Prue said, checking her watch. "Why don't you and Kyle talk for a bit while I go and check in with the manager?" She pushed back her chair and kissed Kyle on the lips, ruffling Anakin's hair as she walked past and disappeared into the crowd.

"You enjoying Maryland?" asked Kyle after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Considering there was a murder the first night I was here, yeah, I'm having a ball/splendid time."

"You know, you sound just like my younger brother. He has a sarcastic answer for everything as well." Kyle smiled and drank his beer.

"Great minds think alike," he snapped.

Kyle's grip on his mug tightened. "What do you want to talk about?"

He looked at Kyle and frowned. He had short brown hair and green-grey eyes that sat under a pair of thick, dark eyebrows. He was clean-shaven, but clearly needed to shave often. But most of all, he was a very nice man; Anakin would even go as far as to call him a gentleman. But the fact that he was going out with his sister and that he was talking to him when he was already in a foul mood did not bode well.

"Why don't we just sit in awkward silence?" Anakin finally suggested.

Kyle agreed silently, but did not avert his gaze. "It'd be easier to just talk about it you know."

Anakin pursed his lips. "Talk about what?"

"Lucien," Kyle said matter-of-factly.

He felt his blood drain out of his face. "Why would you ever think I would want to talk about Lucien? I'm over him."

"Not according to your sister," Kyle pushed. After dating Prue, he knew that the best way to get a Halliwell to talk was to keep pushing until they broke or exploded. "And certainly not according to your subconscious." When Anakin frowned he continued, "You were talking in your sleep last night."

"So I had a dream?" Anakin drummed his fingers on the counter. "I'm allowed to dream."

"Yes." Kyle nodded. "You are. I'm just saying if you want to talk about it – I'm willing to listen."

Anakin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it. He knew he was being overtly and unnecessarily rude. He swallowed his pride and barely got out a "thanks."

Kyle's eyes lit up and he grinned; he was getting somewhere. "Who's this Jonathan character?"

Anakin cringed. "You know, you can push too far sometimes, Kyle."

"Oh. Sorry. One step at a time?"

"Something like that," he said in a friendlier tone. "Jonathan was a guy who threatened my family a while back. We vanquished him; only problem is Jonathan was also Lucien's half-brother."

"Oh!" Kyle searched for the next thing to say.

Anakin stared at his empty glass. "It was fine. Lucien accepted the fact that we had to vanquish him. Then one day he got this massive pain in his chest like heartache, only worse: more sharp. He interpreted it to mean Jonathan was still alive. One thing led to another and we eventually broke up."

"But last night..." Kyle stopped, realizing he was goading.

Anakin cracked a brief smile. "Last night was a dream. That's all."

Kyle nodded, accepting that as fact. He knew about magic, but only the basics. He did not care for knowing anything more than that. Prue was not hugely involved in magic except for the class she taught every once in a while at the School, so magic was never a big deal on their relationship. It was her brothers that were really affected by the whole Charmed destiny, which suited him just fine.

"I think I'm going to go find Prue," Kyle finally said.

He nodded. "Kyle."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Any time." Kyle pushed his chair in and walked off in search of Prue.

Anakin turned his back on the bar and looked out over the dancing crowd. The club was packed, every chair full and most of the people on the dance floor. The band was fairly good; not music he would have listened to normally, but it had a decent rhythm and the lyrics were audible over the drums and guitar. He allowed his mind to wander as he checked out the guys on the dance floor. So he was surprised when he was suddenly on high alert. He searched for the cause of the disturbance and paled when he spotted the source walking toward him.

"Lucien!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

He felt his face flush. Luc was the last person he had expected to see. The emotional whirlwind continued to spin. Settling on being civil, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Lucien walked closer and shrugged. He reached the chair vacated by Prue and placed both of his hand on its back. "Mind if I have a seat?"

Anakin shook his head quickly. "Prue won't be back any time soon." He turned around so that he would be facing the same direction as Lucien.

Lucien had not changed much since he'd last seen him. He still had his dark brown hair in a cross between a perm and an afro, which on anyone else made him cringe, but on Lucien it always looked—right. His brown eyes were as vibrant and full of emotion as ever if a bit more haunted. Lucien's olive skin was as unblemished as ever but Anakin suspected that there were a few more battle scars hidden underneath his tight black jeans and sleeveless white shirt. He looked back up at Lucien's face, but he was looking across the bar at the numerous multicolored bottles on the opposite wall.

"I won't take up much of your time," Lucien muttered and fell silent, eyes still not meeting Anakin.

"So what have you been up to?" he casually asked, forcing his breathing and heart rate to remain calm.

Finally Lucien looked at him. "Odd jobs here and there. Nothing too stable, but I scrape by."

He pushed his fresh drink under Lucien's nose.

Lucien nodded and picked up the glass. "Did you move out here, or are you just visiting?"

"I moved out about two days ago," Anakin replied as he caught the bartender's attention. "Sparkling water, please." The pig-like man grunted and moved off. "I got into Johns Hopkins."

"Good for you."

Anakin twiddled his fingers. "So...you living out here?"

"Just passing through," Lucien mumbled. "My dad died so I was up in New York for the funeral, and now I'm on the road again." He paused and peered at Anakin. In a soft voice he asked, "Have you had any visions?"

Anakin nodded hesitantly. "Well, dreams mostly. About all the things that happened when we broke up." He ignored Lucien's cringe. "And memories of the other Anakin's past pop up on occasion, but they're really fuzzy."

"What about last night?" Lucien inquired in an even softer tone.

"I—"He paused. His brow creased. "Yes, I had a dream."

"About?" Lucien averted his eyes and stared at his drink.

"Jonathan and you," he whispered. "It was a battle, and you lost."

"But so did he," muttered Lucien. "We weren't fighting each other."

His eyes widened. _How was that possible_? "You saw it too?"

Lucien smiled. "It's the first time I've received a vision from him in a while." He pushed his glass away and closed his eyes in defeat.

"I think he's in trouble, Anakin."

"Who?" Anakin accepted the water from the bartender. "Jonathan?"

Lucien nodded, apparently waiting for the other foot to fall.

"Because of this dream?"

Lucien did not answer instead he gulped. "Hi, Prue."

She walked up to the two and stood protectively next to Anakin. "Lucien," she greeted icily.

Anakin groaned. Any hope of continuing the conversation gone.

Lucien stood up. "I've got to get going. Nice seeing you, Anakin. Prue."

"Yeah," she huffed.

"Call me," Anakin called out to his retreating figure.

"Anakin!" scolded Prue with a soft smack on the arm. "I don't—"

"I know that, Prue," he cut her off. "But he needs a friend."

"So what? He has other friends to turn to besides the boyfriend he nearly crushed." She studied Anakin. Her eyes softened. "You're finally starting to move on with your life, Annie. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

He nodded, knowing it was pointless arguing with her. "Mind getting me something stronger?"

Prue bit her lip. "One shot, Anakin, that's it." She summoned the bartender. "Mom would have my hide if she knew about this."

But Anakin did not care. He was more concerned about the repercussions of Lucien dropping back into his life. And he wanted to forget all the painful memories seeing the elemental brought up. He down the drink and closed his eyes, praying something in his life would work out. But then the image of Jonathan bowing down before a cloaked being reminded him that destiny was only getting started with messing with him.


	4. Stronger

Stronger

Anakin sat in the back of a massive auditorium. The course was the freshman cellular biology lecture all Biology majors were required to take, and he had arrived five minutes early. He was still awed at the expanse of the room when his fellow students started to file in.

He chose to sit right in the back so he could slip out if his head started to make him nauseous again. The migraines had subsided for a few days but returned with increasing intensity over the past week. The stress of school starting clearly aggravated his condition, and that in turn amplified his stress. It was almost poetic.

A particularly nasty stabbing flash of raw pain made him wish he had skipped coming at all. But he just could not bring himself to skip his first day of classes, so he reached into his backpack and grabbed his bottle of Advil. Ignoring the label on the bottle, the blond witch took two more pills. _Three more minutes_. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning ever so slowly, and drifted off into his best "quiet" place.

"Excuse me," inquired a voice from far off.

His eyes snapped open, and he cringed at the sudden brightness of the room. "Hmm?"

The tired witch looked up to see a young male student standing next to him. The man had piercing beep blue eyes under dark brown eyebrows. His hair was gelled up and to the side in the front. He had pale perfect skin and deep pink lips. He wore an old gray suit, which had probably been in fashion during the late seventies. "Excuse me," he repeated.

Anakin peered into his blue eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry, man." He scooted his wooden chair in to allow the young man past.

Smiling, the fellow student squeezed past and took the seat opposite him. He dumped his bag roughly on the ground underneath the lecture table. "I'm Damien Caleb," the mysterious man introduced, extending his hand.

Anakin took the offered hand and shook it once. "Anakin Halliwell."

"Nice to meet you, Anakin." said Damien, pulling out a laptop. "Where are you from?"

"San Francisco." Anakin briefly took notice of a scrawny old man stepping up to the front podium. "You?"

"Oh, never really had a real home." Damien answered nonchalantly. "Dad was in the service, so we moved around a lot. But I was born here in Baltimore."

"So this is like coming home for you,"

This gained a brief thoughtful grin. "Guess so. Think this class will be any good?'

He shrugged. "Who knows – I'm just hoping it's not boring."

"True, that would be a plus." Damien took the offered syllabus from the blonde woman two seats down and handed the last one to him.

"Thanks."

Silence descended on the class as the old man introduced himself as Dr. Kenneth Astbury. Aside from his distinct British accent, Anakin lost any hope for an exciting first class. The dear doctor had clearly been teaching Biology long enough to have a routine, and it started with reading the syllabus verbatim.

He lost any interest in the septuagenarian man's lecture after the second page. His thoughts drifted to more stimulating topics. One in particular kept coming back to him: Miley Mabel.

The report on the security guard's autopsy had come out the day before. It indicated the lack of any defect in the man's heart. The cause of death was heart failure but the cause was neither natural nor murder as far as the pathologist could determine. So the death had been ruled suspicious.

He learned this from Ms. Mabel the night before. She had called and asked if he would mind answering a couple more questions. The interview took place at a café down the street from his apartment, and the memory still left him unsettled. He sensed nothing demonic about the woman, but the way she attracted men's attention was not natural.

He felt a change in the demeanor of the classroom.

"Du-de," Damien whispered; it came out awkward as if he did not say the word very often. "We're supposed to be getting into groups."

A glance confirmed that the class had grouped off into gatherings of two or three.

He groaned; he hated group discussions. "Thanks."

"No problem. So … mind working with me?"

He shook his head. "That'd be great. Umm, what are we working on? Sorry; glazed over for a few moments there."

"I'd have too, if Miss Goody Two-Shoes over there hadn't kept poking me in the ribs every time my head drooped." He gave the blonde girl a sarcastic smile, which she returned in kind. "We're supposed to start discussing our semester project. Get some rough ideas in our heads."

"Already?" A check of his syllabus showed the project would only be due late November. "Doesn't waste any time, does he?"

Damien cracked a smile. "What do you call the past forty minutes?"

He silently agreed. "Any brilliant ideas?"

"Nope," said Damien, flipping idly through his massive, well used textbook. "But it's not due until next week, so we can mull over it some other time."

A brief skim showed most of the class had realized that fact as well, if the number of cell phones in sight served any indication. The only group that seemed to be using their time productively was that of the blonde girl and the two poor souls trapped with her. Anakin's lips twitched in amusement. "So – where're you living?"

The eighteen-year-old grimaced. "Been living with my aunt, but it's not permanent. I've checked out a few cribs around the school, but most come with an annoying roommate or two. You?"

"I've got a little apartment not far from here," he said. "My sister got me the place a couple of months back."

"Ah," Damien looked past him at the clock. "Does your sister live with you?"

"No!" He cringed at the thought of living with his sister again. "She lives with her fiancé and our cousin. They have a house just outside the city."

"Wow," the distracted teen muttered. "How old is your sister?"

He cocked an eyebrow. _Was that really important_? "A year older than me. She caught a lucky break; she inherited our mother's gift for the culinary arts. Food Network couldn't get my mom to sign with them, but my sister took the job."

"Wait," Damien interrupted, realization dawning on his face. "Your sister is _the_ Prue Halliwell?"

"Well, not _the_ Prue Halliwell; that title belongs to my aunt. But yeah, I guess to most people she would be the Prue Halliwell."

"Cool, man." Damien clapped him on the back. "You must be thrilled."

His heart swelled with pride. "Yeah, I am."

Damien checked the clock again. "Well, looks like class is up. When's your next one?"

He thought for a moment while gathering his belongings. "Not until tonight. History."

"The six to nine class with Mr. Sanders?"

"Think so," he said. "You in the class as well?"

Damien nodded. "Looks like we'll be seeing more of each other."

"Got a class before then?" Anakin asked, standing slowly and not wanting the conversation to end.

"Unfortunately, I'm double majoring in business and biology," confessed Damien; Anakin winced. "Got my Freshman Colloquium for the business majors next, and then I'm off to Calculus."

"That sucks. I tested out of Calc, thank God."

The two new friends walked out of the classroom together.

"Lucky!" exclaimed Damien as he threw his bag over his back. "You remember any of it?"

He shrugged; Calculus was hardly his best subject, and it had been a while since he had even thought about it. Telling Damien such, he was surprised to hear the other student did not mind. They traded phone numbers.

"Well, I'll see you around," Damien said, checking the time on his phone.

"Yeah. See you tonight."

They started up different paths, Damien heading toward a large building, and Anakin with an extra spring in his step to the nearest parking garage. The witch walked briskly not paying attention to the world around him. He was genuinely happy for the first time since the blackout the week before.

He hurried away from main campus. Happy or not, he still wanted to be back home out of the heat, which was doing nothing to help his dormant but still present headache. Then without warning the pain reached a new crescendo of utter agony. He stumbled and only barely caught hold of the railing. His vision blurred as the pain refused to die down. Tempted as he was to take another two Advil, he decided it would do more harm than good.

_HELP ME!_ The mental scream echoed hollowly in his head, and he realized dimly that the cry had not emanated from him.

The wave died down and with its decline, his mind cleared. A plan formed; he needed to make it to his car. From there he could orb home and call for help. With the telepathic cry for help, he could no longer write off these attacks as from stress and lack of sleep. He hated to admit it, but magic was at work. He felt like the world had been ripped out from under him, and he was now hurtling down a depressing black hole. And it infuriated him.

Anakin squeezed his eyes against the re-building pain and strode forward with more determination, focusing solely on the act of walking. The coolness of the parking lot was a welcome relief from the heat. Not that he was complaining about the heat. The summer was quickly coming to a close, and the fall and winter temperatures were much more torturous than a humid summer day in his mind. The parking lot was empty and his footsteps echoed in the silent building. He had parked close to the elevator, about as far away from the campus as he could park in this place.

He rubbed his head and continued to walk, each step sending an echo through the area and drilling into his head. His vision became fuzzy and dark.

_He could hear the wild demon dogs chasing him, wreaking havoc as they pursued his scent. _

Anakin shook his head and leaned against one of the cement support columns. The intensity of the migraine drove him to his knees. He ran his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He felt helpless against the assault.

He cursed, slamming a fist against the ground. No amount of pain could be worse than the paralyzing thought of not making it out of this. The last bout of headaches had nearly driven him insane, but at least that time something positive had come out of it. This was sucking the life out of him, and he was powerless to stop it.

He reached for his dropped backpack and pulled out the box of Advil. He took one pill, swallowed it, and shoved the box back into his bag, then retrieved his cell phone. Anakin quickly punched in Prue's number; he needed help.

She picked up almost immediately. "Annie?"

"Prue," he whispered, struggling to remain conscious. "Can you come get me?"

"Sure, Annie," she said, her tone concerned. "Where are you?"

Anakin looked around for a moment. He felt lost—confused. "I'm – I'm in a parking building just off campus."

"Alright, I'm on my way. You just sit still and I'll be there as soon as I can."

No longer possessing the strength to keep the phone to his ear he let his hand drop. Anakin slumped against the rough wall behind him and closed his eyes, willing the pain to just go away.

_He had to stop for a breath. The battle against the wraiths had worn him more than he had imagined. He was on the West Coast, somewhere near the Canada-Washington border. He had been resting no more than two seconds when wraiths started appearing out of thin air. They charged, but he slipped away. _

Anakin breathed heavily. He pulled his bag closer to him and stuffed his cell phone into an open pocket. He lifted the textbook-laden bag into his lap and used it as a pillow. The blond was terribly pale, cold sweat beading across his forehead. He felt sick, tired, and completely defenseless. He blinked back frustrated tears.

Whoever was doing this was not relenting this time. He could feel the other presence invading his mind, pressing for more information. He tried to push them away, to fight, but he was too weak. There was not enough fight in him to stop them; maybe if they got what they wanted, all this would stop.

In the distance, a car was unlocked and footsteps reverberated off the tar floor. He could faintly hear the rushing, gurgling water in the pipes above his head. The lights buzzed and crackled in time with the AC current. His clothes scratched against the smooth surface of the cement column. Every sound was excruciating.

He felt his forehead and was surprised to not find himself boiling. The symptoms resembled those of a nasty bout of flu, and yet he knew he was not sick.

The vulnerable witch sat with his knees pulled against his chest. Once again, he pulled out his phone. He wanted it to ring; he needed it to ring. After two agonizing minutes, the display lit up. Anakin answered before the ring sounded.

"Hello?" His answered frailly.

Prue sounded relieved. "Anakin? Where are you? I think I'm in the right parking lot."

He struggled to get a good look at a landmark. "I'm in row H against one of the columns."

"Great." The car engine revved and the sound started to grow louder. "Don't move; we'll be there in two seconds."

"Thanks," he whispered.

_One of the wraiths caught up to him and pulled him back into the world of the living and shapes. Once he was down, the other wraiths materialized and piled on top of him, nearly crushing him. He panted heavily and pushed against the great mass of demonic dogs but they whipped at his arms and face. The wounds made by their scalpel-sharp tails burned deep until the pain was his entire world. But he knew he could not get caught. Getting caught meant he would be brought before Aeglaeca. The thought gave him the energy to telekinetically throw the hell hounds off his body. With the weight lifted, he scrambled to his feet and was off._

"Anakin!" Prue, panicked, jumped out of the car and ran to him.

"Prue?" His connection to reality was slipping, his grasp on the world around him wavering on nonexistence. Sounds grew loud and soft. His eyes felt too heavy to keep open.

"Let's get you into the car." There was urgency in her voice.

Somehow he got into the car. A vague memory of hanging on Prue's neck felt like the truth, but he could not be sure. He just wanted sleep and for the pain to end.

"We have to take him to the hospital," she explained, climbing in next to Kyle. "He's in a bad way."

Kyle said something, but Anakin was in too much pain to make sense of it. He lay on the back seat focused on his breathing. Every movement became a chore. He felt his sister take his hand in hers and distantly felt her rubbing it to comfort him. But he was beyond comfort; he felt the evilness inside him. And he needed it out!

_He knew there was only one chance he had of surviving the constant assaults by the wraiths. He stopped running and turned around to face them. _

"_You want me?" Jonathan taunted, raising both of his hands out in front of him. "Then you're going to have to kill me!"_

"NO!" Anakin shot straight up and the car swerved, slamming his already pounding head against the glass window.

"Annie!"

"He's going to get himself killed," he hissed, rubbing his head. "We've got to help!"

"Who, Annie? Who's going to die?"

Anakin looked directly into his sister's anxious brown eyes. "Jonathan!"

Before he could explain himself further, he was attacked again. This time the being was holding nothing back, and even his righteous fury fell beneath the storm of telepathic power. A stab of pain cast him into unconsciousness.

"Jonathan?" Kyle asked, keeping one eye on the road and another on his stunned fiancée. "As in _the_ Jonathan?"

Prue shrugged and mindlessly settled back into her seat. _Jonathan was dead_. "We need to get him home."

"He needs the hospital."

She vehemently shook her head. This no longer felt right. "He needs my brothers. This isn't normal."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Wyatt and Chris will help him. They have to—" She spoke mostly to herself, trying to convince herself that she was making the right decision.

The brown-haired witch looked over at her fiancé and placed her hand in his offered hand. He squeezed softly and offered a short, comforting smile. "It'll be alright, sweetheart."

"I know." But her breath caught with she got a glimpse of her brother. "I just wish I could trust that I knew. My family's been through so much – who knows when the shoe is going to fall?"

Kyle tried to be optimistic, but he knew all the horror stories. No good deed went unpunished, doubly so for the Halliwells. "Maybe it never will."

"Maybe." She dispassionately looked out the window.

The weather outside had drastically changed. The once clear sky was now gray and dreary. Off in the distance the occasional lightning bolt lit up the gloomy scene. Prue rested the side of her head against the window as rain started to streak against the glass.

The unnatural and unpredicted storm reminded her of happier times at the Manor. A time when her family had still been a family. A time before she had given up practicing magic. A time when dinner meant having a full table of laughing couples: her and her ex, Wyatt and his latest lady-of-the-week, Chris and Serena (although neither of them would admit it), Anakin and Luc.

And with her brother's condition, she found herself wishing for Lucien. Beside herself, he had been the closest person to Annie. Together they had helped him live through the memories of death and destruction the other Anakin had endured.

A tear rolled down her cheek. They had been so happy together, and then Lucien had broken his heart. Her brother fell apart at the seams, and she had been helpless to stop it. She had vowed to never let it happen again. Yet she found herself unable to protect her brother again.

This week had destroyed the tenuous bubble of security she had built around her family. Demons were after them; she would bet her life on it. And if the events of the week were anything to go by, the Underworld was once again rallying behind a leader, a very devious and powerful leader.

The night of the guard's death there had been a series of occurrences, which had left Anakin completely open to an attack. Her nephew had contracted a mysterious illness, and he along with his mother and father had spent the night in the emergency room. However. by the next morning, Zach was completely healthy and happy. Chris had an encounter with a darklighter, a demon type that had not attacked since the destruction of the heavens. The short battle left him incapacitated for the night. A minor uprising amongst the less seemly faculty of Magic School had kept her dad busy all week. And her poor mother spent the night fighting to keep P3 from being shut down by the FDA.

She had her own issues that night as well; Kyle had come home that night agitated. They had sat down for dinner. Although she did not dish up any for herself, she did drink a glass of wine. Kyle ate in silence, a worrisome change in habit. Finally, he spoke. What he said chilled her cold to the very core.

There was a rumor circulating around the law firm about a quiet push in Congress to deal with what happened seven years ago. Jonathan's takeover had not gone unnoticed by the non-magical community. There had been fear that magic had been exposed but when nothing happened, magic forgot about it. Obviously, someone had not. The discussion was all consuming. It was only by lucky coincidence that Kyle accidentally turned on the television, and they learned about the death in Anakin's building.

Anakin was the golden boy of the family. He was the reason why they had survived this long. Sure, most of it was done by the future Anakin, but it was difficult to separate the two. The whole Jonathan incident had strained and stretched the Halliwell family/clan. As was witnessed by the other Anakin, the stress had been enough to fracture them once, and they had paid the ultimate price. Seven years was a long time; things had changed. But Prue doubted their mom could survive losing any of her children, especially Anakin.

"Hold on, Annie," she pleaded, closing her eyes.

"We're here."

Kyle released her hand and slipped out of the car. He went around and opened her side before opening the back door. He reached in and carefully pulled Anakin out. Buckling down his dismay at how gaunt the teen struck him, he laid him down on the floor.

Prue climbed out and closed the garage door. "WYATT! CHRIS! We need you!" she yelled at the ceiling. Nothing happened. "I'm not screwing around here, guys. WYATT! CHRIS!"

Two masses of swirling blue and white orbs suddenly appeared. Wyatt and Chris materialized out of the orbs looking distinctly annoyed.

"I was in class!" hissed Wyatt.

"Shut up and look," she spat, returning his venom.

Her brothers turned and paled at the sight before them. Kyle was kneeling next to Anakin, patting the tormented teen's forehead dry. They moved and immediately tried to heal him.

"Who did this?" Chris worriedly asked.

"No idea," Prue whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. "He called me to pick him up from school. He had a migraine. Then half way to the hospital, he screamed and passed out. He'd been dozing before that and muttering."

"Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" Wyatt asked, agitated. "They could be doing something."

Prue's voice caught in her throat. "No, Wy! You have to do something." Her eyes grew teary. "We can't lose him again."

"Prue thinks this isn't a disease."

Chris studied Kyle. "What do you mean?" Then the revelation suddenly dawned in his expression. "You think it's demonic?"

She nodded, sniffing. "He's been having headaches since that murder last week. He's not been sleeping right – he's been cranky and jumpy. It's not normal."

"Well, the best we can do is make him comfortable." He sounded absolutely disgusted in himself for not being able to do more. "None of us are powerful enough telepaths to help him if it is a demon."

Wyatt bit his lip; he was not willing to give up. "We could try and –"

"NO!" Chris pointedly snapped. "Wyatt, we're not him. He might be able to invade someone else's mind and actually help that person, but we can't."

Prue looked down at Anakin. "Can't we make a potion or write a spell? Something. Anything." She was frantic.

Wyatt tried to heal Anakin once again but the glow of magic never came.

"Let's move him to the couch," Chris said finally, taking charge.

"The guest bed is open." Kyle held Chris's gaze. "It'll be more comfortable than the couch."

Chris nodded his assent. A quick wave of a hand was all it took to make their brother disappeared in a mass of orbs.

The four worried adults made their way to the guest room. Kyle, with an arm wrapped comfortingly around Prue, led the way. Wyatt and Chris fell in stride with one another, both too worried about their youngest brother to look after their sister.

"Would there be anything in the Book?" whispered Wyatt.

Chris shook his head. "Not without us knowing who was doing this. Any spell blocking telepathy is demon-specific."

"So why not try a tracking spell?"

Chris pondered the idea for a moment. "It'd require some of the demon's blood or at least skin cells."

Wyatt sighed in defeat. "Who could do this?"

"Someone we don't want to meet in a dark alley," Chris answered sarcastically.

"The same guy who sent that darklighter to attack you?"

They walked into the room to see Anakin sitting up in bed rubbing his head. He spotted Chris and Wyatt and smiled. "You two should sell yourselves to the highest bidder. You work much better than drugs."

"What?" Wyatt's eyebrows arched.

Chris went over to Anakin. "What do you remember?"

"Hello to you too," he greeted. "Well, let's see: I was in class and then I was walking to the car. My head hurt, phoned Prue to come and pick me up, then I'm waking up in Kyle's bed."

"That's all?" Chris pressed while examining him.

"Will you stop that?" Anakin batted away the small flashlight his brother flashed in his eyes. "My pupils are working just great, thank you very much." He stared at everyone. "And yes, that is all I remember. So what happened?"

"You passed out," Prue answered softly, wiping her cheeks free of tears.

"Ah…" Anakin trailed off. "Now that my headache is cured – can we eat?"

"Aren't you worried about passing out?" asked Prue, shocked.

He shrugged. "The important thing is that I woke up again. I'm not in a coma."

"Annie," Chris started, "passing out is not a good thing."

Anakin nodded. "I know. Don't need a doctor's degree for that. But I also know that I didn't eat breakfast this morning. Probably just fainted because of low blood sugar. And the cure for that is, Mr. Doctor?"

"Food," conceded Chris. "But after that, we need to talk. Prue's been on our case about talking to you for a week now."

"Ah." Anakin gave Prue an accusatory stare. "Being Mom's eyes and ears, sis?"

"I'm being a responsible sister," she snapped. "And we've had this discussion before."

Anakin smiled. "Fine, we'll talk about how I'm being irresponsible for not believing I'm in mortal danger twenty-four/seven." He climbed off the bed and started out of the room toward the kitchen, the others in tow.

Anakin dashed down the path; he was late.

"Hey!" he called out when he spotted Damien across the courtyard.

Damien waved back and stopped walking. When Anakin was nearer he spoke. "How'd your day go?"

"It was eventful," he said with a smile. "And yours?"

"I was in classes all day," Damien shrugged. "Mind-bogglingly boring just scratches the surface."

"That bad, hey?" Anakin shifted his shoulder to adjust his bag. "That sucks. Well this class promises to be more of the same."

"You're a ray of sunshine." Damien's tone dripped with sarcasm.

"ANAKIN!" Came a familiar voice from behind them.

His brow furrowed. It was a big university, but he was sure that no one from his high school had come to Johns Hopkins. He turned around still trying to place the voice with a face. Then he spotted the person. _The day just kept getting better_.

"Someone you know?"

He nodded, etched with anticipation. "My ex."

"Oh!" Damien took a step closer to him.

"Anakin!" Lucien panted, finally slowing to a stop in front of them. "I need to talk to you."

Anakin glanced at Damien, annoyed on his behalf. "Lucien, Damien. Damien, Lucien."

"Pleasure." Lucien huffed as he bent over to catch his breath.

"I'm sure," Damien almost growled.

Anakin frowned. Sure being ignored did not feel all that great, but Lucien's actions hardly deserved a such a terse reaction.

"So," Lucien began, ignoring Damien, "can we talk?"

"Not right now." Anakin pointed to the building behind them. "I've got class."

"Right." Lucien checked his watch. "Well, what about tomorrow? Around lunchtime?"

Anakin bit his lip. He knew exactly what Prue would say and part of him wanted to also just turn Lucien away. He was in no state to deal with past issues. But he also knew Lucien needed help; he could see it in his brown eyes. "Alright," he sighed. "Meet me at my place."

Lucien nodded. "Okay, I'll see you then." He looked at Damien who was hovering protectively behind Anakin. "Nice to meet you, Damien."

Damien nodded but did not speak until Lucien was out of earshot. "You didn't have to agree to that."

"I know," he sighed wearily. "Come on, we're going to be late."

"Want me to come over tomorrow?" Damien asked abruptly.

Anakin smiled. "Thanks, but I think I can handle one hour with him. He's not bad. We just differed on some aspects that could not be compromised."

"So you broke up with him?" He noticed Damien was back to being calm and friendly.

"No," he shook his head. He opened the door and let Damien into the building before following. "He broke up with me. But we've remained friends," he lied.

Damien seemed to accept the statement. "So we had a test in calculus today."

Anakin pulled a face. "Is that even allowed?"

"I'm definitely going to be taking you up on the whole tutoring thing." Damien dropped his voice as they walked into the lecture hall. They found seats right next to the door.

"Like I said, I might not be much help, but call me any time." Anakin pulled out a notebook and Damien pulled out his laptop. "But you'll be returning the favor in this class. Always hated history."

Damien eyes widened in horror. "And you think _I_ like it?"

"No." Anakin smirked. "But they say that businessmen are better at remembering facts than scientists."

"Now if you will all please find a seat, we can get started and get out early." The professor's voice echoed from the two massive speakers on either side of the small stage in the front of the room. "Your syllabi are being distributed by…"

The professor's voice became a distant monotone drone to Anakin as he thought back on the afternoon's events. After the lunch of leftovers, Wyatt, Chris, and he had moved to the living room for their serious discussion. As expected, Chris took the adult, must-take-everything-seriously approach and Wyatt was laidback. Wyatt was more concerned with him not forgetting that magic was still out there. Chris focused on the very present danger of a demonic attack. Chris suggested that he take a refresher course on fighting at Magic School, while Wyatt argued against him doing any such thing. If Anakin needed practice, he had his family.

The conversation had dragged on for an hour and a half before Wyatt ended it. The oldest Halliwell brother had another class, and he could not skip it. Chris wanted to continue the discussion without Wyatt or at least at another time. Wyatt rolled his eyes, told Chris to relax, and suggested that they all go out for a boys' night out later that week. Chris had stayed for another thirty minutes with him discussing Kyle.

Chris was still not sure about the guy. Anakin agreed that they needed to still be brothers and protect Prue, but they should give Kyle a chance. For him, Kyle had already proven he was good enough for Prue the night at the bar. But that night was not something he was ready to discuss with Chris – at least, not yet. If Prue had told anyone about Lucien, no one had brought the elemental up. He was going to steer clear of any discussion of Lucien until he figured out where he stood on the whole matter.

Like he had told Prue and Damien, Lucien was a friend. As much as Prue hated that fact, Anakin was not going to stop being friends with Lucien. He had, through therapy and his own musings, decided that Lucien was not his boyfriend and he did not owe him a thing.

But did he want to be Lucien's boyfriend again? Could he cope with another breakup as devastating as the last time? Those were questions that plagued his mind and kept him from focusing on the history professor.

A nudge in his side brought him back to reality. "Huh?"

"Class is dismissed," whispered Damien, worry etched across his forehead.

"Oh." He looked around and sure enough, most of the students were pushing in seats and leaving. "Thanks."

"Are you always this out of it?"

"No." He pulled his bag onto the desk and began packing it. "Just have a lot of stuff on my mind at the moment."

"So," Damien began as he threw his bag over his shoulder, "you busy tonight?"

Anakin shrugged. "I promised my sister I'd phone when class was over. We might be going to a club or something. Why?"

Damien smiled nonchalantly. "Oh, nothing. Just don't feel like going home yet."

Anakin pulled out his phone. "Want to join us? I'm sure my sister won't mind and it'll give me someone else to talk to while my sister and future brother-in-law have one of their make-out sessions."

"As long as it's okay with you sister."

"Great!" Anakin exclaimed, and hurriedly dialed Prue's number. "Prue? Yeah, I'm out." Prue said something and he nodded along. "Sounds great, but can I bring a friend? No, it's not a date!" Anakin rolled his eyes. "Fine, we'll meet you at the club in a bit." He hung up and pocketed his phone. "Well, it's fine with my sis."

Damien's blue eyes brightened. "Which way to your car?"

He pointed in the direction of the parking building he had collapsed in earlier in the day. "Do you have a car?"

Damien followed him. He answered in a monotonous tone, "Well, that depends on what mood my aunt is in when she wakes up. My folks got me a car when I graduated high school, but my aunt took control of it when I moved in."

He frowned. "But it's _your_ car."

Damien shrugged. "I don't use it very often – never liked driving all that much."

"Why?" he asked, honestly intrigued. He could not imagine his life if he couldn't drive. It was absolute freedom in his opinion.

"Don't really know," Damien said softly, an almost pensive look on his face. "Just never enjoyed being confined in a car."

"Hmm. It's the one next to the elevator." He pointed at the silver beat up Toyota sedan. "Not all that pretty, but it gets me from A to B."

"That's a car's job." Damien climbed into the passenger's side, placing his bag at his feet. "So which club are we going to?"

Anakin started the car. "It's called P3. It's actually the club franchise owned by my Mom; the reason why I can get in without a fake ID."

"Your mom owns P3?" Damien whistled. "Man! Is your entire family loaded?"

Anakin shrugged and put the car in reverse. "We're well off, I guess. My Mom is kind of rich thanks to P3 and her restaurant and my aunt Phoebe is a famous author of self-help books. But we're not snobbish rich people. Most of the money they make goes toward college for us kids or the weddings of the girls."

Damien grinned. "Believe me dude, you're more than just well off." He then frowned. "Why are you driving this old thing if your Mom owns P3?"

"Call it a character flaw, but I don't like accepting help from people," Anakin admitted as he pulled out of the garage. "I mean, my parents pay for my tuition and books, but the rest I want to pay for."

"So you don't accept any other money from them?" Damien's eyebrows arched.

"Pretty much. I mean if there's an accident or something like that, then sure, I'll suck it up and ask for some help. But I'm my own person, so why not act like it?"

"Hey, man, more power to you," Damien replied, raised his hands in an I-surrender gesture. "You're just the first person I've ever come across to not blindly accept every penny mommy and daddy send their way."

Anakin smirked. "Are you one of those people?"

"I wish!" Damien playfully shot back. "Mom and Dad expect me to pay for college myself. Teach me that life is tough and all that. Big difference between being the youngest and being the oldest, I guess."

"Yeah," he continued, "Wyatt always complained that Mom and Dad were always harder on him, but I think he just imagined it. So how many siblings do you have?"

"Too many to count," Damien answered. "Mom and Dad just didn't know when to stop. But it's nice having a big family. Always having someone back you up."

Anakin pulled into a parking lot and rolled down his window. "Anakin Halliwell." He handed the security guard a card. The guard glanced at it and handed it back.

"Go on through, Mr. Halliwell. Ms. Halliwell arrived just a few moments ago," he said, waving them through.

Anakin rolled up his window and drove past. "I only have three siblings, but my extended family is very close, so I know what you mean."

"Mr. Halliwell?" Damien mocked, eyebrows raised.

He groaned. "I know! I keep telling them that 'Anakin' is just fine but they never learn. I've learned to ignore it."

"Yeah, definitely more than just well off," Damien muttered.

"Oh?" He smirked. "Shove it."

Damien looked into his eyes. Anakin fell silent, his grin fading. Something in his friend's eyes was off. He tried to figure out what he saw, but Damien looked away and never met his gaze again. He was so focused on figuring out what was so wrong; he didn't notice Prue walking up to his car.

Prue wrapped on the window "Annie! Hurry up!"

Startled, Anakin opened his door. "You could have gone in without me," he snapped.

Prue shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I thought you said it wasn't a date," she whispered.

He glared at her and unbuckled himself. "Just move so I can get out."

When both he and Damien were out of the car, Anakin cleared his throat. "Damien, let me introduce Prue Halliwell and Kyle Brooks." Damien shook hands as he continued. "Kyle, Prue, this is Damien. He's a _friend_ from my bio class."

"And history," Damien added. "Can't forget that glorious subject."

"Oh yeah. That one too."

The four happy persons left he parking lot and headed toward the buzzing club, missing the mysterious man and woman, lurking in the shadows by the car.

Anakin woke up the next morning with a small smile on his face. He climbed out of bed and slipped on his pair of jeans from the previous day. Grabbing a towel from the rack behind his door, the blond headed toward the bathroom. Only the door to the bathroom was closed and light was seeping through the crack between the door and the carpet. He frowned and knocked softly.

"Anakin?" Damien's asked from the other side. "Did I wake you?"

"No." Anakin shook his head to himself, grinning as his mind filled in the gaps. "No, it's OK."

Damien opened the door wearing only a white towel wrapped around his lithe waist, his hair still dripping from the shower. "I borrowed a towel from the cupboard. Hope that's alright."

He nodded. "That's what they're there for." He squeezed into the bathroom, the one room that looked like it had received any renovation in the last fifty years. "So … you heading out soon?"

"No." Damien shook his head, stepping back into the bathroom and closing the door. "I'm just a morning person."

"Even after a night like last night?" Anakin stated, impressed.

Damien nodded. "Military family and all."

"Ah," he murmured. He spread some toothpaste on his toothbrush before offering the tube to Damien. "Toothbrushes are in the medicine cabinet. My mom bought tons, so don't worry about it."

"Thanks." Damien opened the mirrored cabinet, selected a toothbrush, and turned to face the built-in vanity. "Besides the date with your ex, do you have any plans for today?"

Anakin pursed his lips in thought. "I'm free until eight tonight then I've got a Psychology lecture 'til ten."

Damien put the toothbrush in his mouth and then removed it, careful to not meet Anakin's eyes. "Want to grab dinner?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Where?"

Damien grinned. "Italian?"

"Sounds good."

Damien nodded and began to brush his teeth. Anakin followed suit, stealing glances every few seconds. He had barely known this young man a day, less than a day even, and here he was feeling like they had been friends since forever. Anakin inwardly smiled as he bent over the basin to spit out the foamy toothpaste.

"How do you like your eggs?" Damien suddenly asked.

"Huh? Oh!" Anakin sputtered, turning on the tap. "Scra – no," he sighed. He didn't want to ruin the morning; scrambled eggs had been Lucien's specialty. "Fried, thanks."

Damien nodded sharply and handed him the borrowed toothbrush. "You get ready. I'll make breakfast."

"OK."

He undressed and climbed into the shower after Damien's departure. As warm water ran across his body, Anakin's thoughts returned to the previous night. After a couple of drinks, it had become clear that Damien had a thing for him. And he was not totally opposed to the idea of turning their new friendship into something more. The guy was good looking and had a sarcastic sense of humor. All through the night, Prue had sent him approving looks. He smirked and grabbed the body wash.

Damien was a good guy, but he was no Lucien.

A pang filled his chest, but he furiously squashed it. He was not going to get depressed and mess up the morning. If something happened between them, great. If not, he hoped they could still be friends.

"Anakin?" Damien called.

It took him a moment to realize that he had not imagined it all. "Yeah?" he called out while lathering the shampoo.

"There's a woman outside asking for you – er, Serena Capell?" Damien sounded unsure of his information.

"Oh!" Anakin froze with his hands entangled in his hair. "Tell her I'll just be a second."

Having originally planned to take a twenty minute shower to clear his head and prepare himself for the day, Anakin was surprised how happy he was for the unexpected visit. Lady Serena Capell had introduced herself to him the first day of English class in ninth grade. They had quickly become best friends.

She had always been spontaneous; random visit than a surprise. He grinned and got dressed. He was still towel-drying his hair when she barged into his room. "Ser!"

"Annie!" Her blue eyes widened comically. "I'm so sorry. I was..." she stuttered, blushing. "You have a lovely place."

Anakin shook his head at her antics; this was hardly the most she had seen of him. He pulled the towel off his hair and dropped it on the growing pile of laundry. He started to button his shirt. "Well, I did my best."

"I really like it," Serena remarked and looked around. Finally, she pouted. "What, no hug?"

The greeting had become almost ritualistic for them. He rolled his eyes and opened his arms. "Hi, Ser." He pulled her into a tight hug. "It's been a while."

Serena pushed back on his shoulders. "Clearly. You have a man-slave in your kitchen." Her eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Anakin smiled widely. "He's a friend from school. We're both Bio majors."

"So you study anatomy together?"

He gasped in horror. "Ser! Keep your mind out of the gutter. You're supposed to be a lady."

The blonde sneered at the mention of her title. "Don't remind me. Daddy's furious I decided to stay in the States for university."

Any further conversation ended when Damien stepped into the room.

"Breakfast is ready!" he happily announced.

"Thanks, I'll be right there."

Serena straightened her skirt. "Well, I'll let you get back to your _friend_. Just dropped in to check out the place, since you clearly weren't going to invite me."

He cringed. "Sorry. It's been a hectic few weeks. But I promise we'll to get together some time."

She stood up straight and looked at him aloofly. "Sure, whatever," she drawled but her lips twitched.

There were moments when he wondered why they had become friends. She could be thoroughly too over the top, way too girly. This was not one of them. He leaned in and gave her a friendly kiss.

"Thanks. And I promise: dinner soon."

She beamed like a three-year-old on Christmas morning. "Bye."

Damien frowned as he watched her leave. "Ready, Anakin?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll set the table." But he could not help but notice the coolness in Damien's eyes. He inwardly sighed. Life could be cruel sometimes.


	5. Wake Up Call

Wake Up Call

Taking another refreshing swig of iced tea, Anakin pondered the drastic changes that had occurred over the past two weeks. He was one step closer to becoming the researcher he had always dreamed of being. Even without any modification in his relationship status, he felt that might change soon as well. Both he and Damien, his newest friend, had gone out to dinner a few times and afterwards, he felt their emotional connection deepen. The times he spent with Damien were some of the most enjoyable he could remember since his split with Lucien.

But in less than a few hours, he would be having lunch with Lucien whom, despite everything, he still had feelings for. Changes or no, life still sucked. He took a sip of his iced tea and stood up.

On the couch lay the neatly folded blanket and pillow that Damien had used the previous night. Even though he insisted otherwise Damien had slept in the living room. Anakin bent down, picked up the blanket and pillow, and walked over to the linen closet in the short passageway. The blond stuffed the extra bedding inside and sealed it back up using magic; he was too deep in thought to pack the cupboard neatly. He strolled back into the living room, hands on his hips, surveying the area.

Everything had to be perfect for this meeting. Whether or not their relationship could be rekindled, Anakin knew he desperately wanted Lucien to be his friend. The only way that was going to happen was if today went smoothly. Anakin needed to give his sister the least amount of ammunition against Lucien as possible. He knew Wyatt and Chris would not make a huge deal with Lucien coming back into their lives. They had always liked him and only hated him out of loyalty to their baby brother. Piper and Leo would freak out, but he could be bring them around. Lucien had been, after all, another son to them. But Prue—Prue took it the hardest when Lucien broke up with him. She had been the one who felt his pain the most.

The two younger siblings had always been close. Wyatt, Chris, and he had the Power of Three connection, but in all actuality, there was too great an age difference for true friendship to be a possibility. But there was only a two-year difference between their ages. They told each other everything.

So when Lucien left and he became depressed, Prue went down with him. She was furious with Luc. It only made matters worse that she had never been able to have it out with the elemental. Anakin had blocked any attempt she made at contacting Luc; that fight could only end worse than it began.

He took a deep breath and went in search of a distraction. Another fifty-five minutes to kill. He had already cleaned the bathroom, made his bed, washed the dishes, and put in a load of laundry. He liked to be productive when he was nervous: a habit he had inherited from his mother. Luckily, there were no plants around to drown.

Finally, his attention settled on lunch. No plans were made to go out or eat here; no plans had been made period. He only knew Lucien needed to talk, and they had agreed to meet here. His mind started to race, but he quickly halted that train of thought. Going out was a safe bet, and they could always come back to talk if things got dicey. There were still rumors going around about a special security bill floating around. Prue and Kyle had speculated it had something to do with the whole upheaval from Jonathan's little takeover. If so, magic talk was a big no-no in public areas…

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Today is the day I freaking wring her neck!" shouted Chris as he orbed into the apartment.

"God!" Anakin spun around, shooting his middle brother a death glare. "What the hell?"

Chris shrugged off the glower. "Sorry, Annie, but I needed out."

"And my apartment was the only place you could orb to?" he asked, annoyed. "The entire world is at your fingertips, and you chose _my_ crappy apartment!"

"Well, no Elder is going to barge in here," he explained. "They're all chicken when it comes to your alter ego."

"Gee, thanks." He sighed, slumping into a seat. "Can we make this quick?"

"You have class?" Chris asked.

Anakin fidgeted under Chris's scrutiny. "No," he said firmly, "but I do have a life, Christopher."

Chris narrowed his green eyes, but must have decided his issues were more pressing than his curiosity, because, he did not pry further.

"Whatever, at least it's just your family disrupting your personal life. I have the freaking Elders on my tail."

He tried to hide a cringe; this was the last thing he felt like dealing with. "What could they possibly be asking you to do? You love magic."

Chris took a deep breath and moved to sit down, but thought better of it. He stood with both hands gripped tightly around the back of the chair. "They're assigning me four new charges. _Four!"_

He struggled to rein in his laughter. "Really? It's not that bad. You only have like, what—five charges? So this brings you up to a grand total of nine." He smirked. "You, the best whitelighter since God knows when, and they want to give you nine charges. Bro, I hate to burst your bubble, but the average whitelighter has twenty or more charges."

Chris sarcastically smiled. "Funny, _bro_. Real cute."

Anakin grinned; they were both relaxed. The danger of an explosive confrontation had passed. "Yeah, that was a bit low—sorry."

Chris shook his head and slipped into the chair. "No, you're right. I'm just pissed. Don't they have other actual whitelighters to draw from? Wyatt got assigned three more charges just two days ago and James from Magic School got eight over the last week."

He arched an eyebrow. This was something Wyatt had failed to mention over the phone. "Why are they handing out assignments like candy?"

His brother shrugged and massaged his temples. "Something to do with increased worry about exposure or something. I was more concerned about the four new charges than their reasons."

"Exposure?" Now he really was confused. "Shouldn't that cause them to withdraw, not add people to their list?"

The brown-haired witch bit his lip, thinking. "That's been the usual course of action. But this time is different. They were talking about legislation or new laws—it was all lost in my emotions. Nine charges, plus med school, and two classes at Magic School." Chris laid his head against the table in defeat. "I think I should shoot myself and save the demons the effort."

"Now, that's not funny, Christopher." Anakin said sternly.

"Oh!" Chris looked up. "Sorry, I just – blanked."

"No worries." Anakin forced a smile as he discretely checked his watch.

Conversation then changed to more mundane topics.

"How were classes?"

"Fine. I think I'll manage. Work'll pick up in a few weeks once the new grants come in, so get back to me then."

"Ah." Chris ran his hand through his hair. "You stressed about that all starting up?"

"No. Not really," Anakin said thoughtfully, leaning back in the chair. "I'm just concerned about my schedule constraints. I have classes at weird times, so I'll be in and out of the lab. Which my boss is fine with: he's laidback. But it still means a ton of late nights. I read the literature and some of these reactions are complex."

"Yeah, but believe it or not, Potions comes in handy. They follow the same principles. I'm glad I got out of research, though: it was a bore."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I'm not going the doctor route, Chris! I like the lab too much."

"You just wait and see," said Chris sagely. "In a few weeks, you'll be begging to work in the clinic rather than in the lab."

The doorbell rang and Anakin jumped. Wide-eyed, he glanced over at his brother. Gulping, he went to answer the door.

"Meeting someone, li'l bro?" asked Chris.

Anakin could practically hear Chris's eyebrows waggling.

He tried to play it off nonchalantly. "It's lunch time, Chris. I know you're up for a little action any time of the day, but I prefer to save it for after dinner."

This garnered a deep chuckle. "Funny, but the last girl I had was over two years ago, so excuse me for trying to live vicariously through you."

The blond continued toward the door. "Well, unless something drastically changed, you probably shouldn't try living through me."

Chris frowned.

"I'm gay. Remember?"

The older witch turned red. "Oh—well, can you blame me? Two years, Anakin: two very long, lonely years!"

He just smirked, dragging out the whole opening of the door, hoping Chris would get the hint. "And whose fault is that?"

"Whatever, li'l bro!" Chris mockingly snapped. "Whoever it is, tell them I said hi."

And with that, the green-eyed witch orbed out.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but he should have known Chris would not press him for information. Anakin took another calming breath before he opened the door.

"Hello?"

Lucien stood on the other side with a smile on his face. "Hey!"

Anakin stepped back. "Come in. Chris just left, so ignore the mess."

"I know your family pretty well, An, and Chris is not the one who's messy," Lucien joked. "It's nice."

He accepted the compliment graciously and quietly shut the door. "Have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?"

The elemental shook his head. "Thanks, though."

"Okay…"

He made his way over to the living room aware of the mounting awkwardness.

Trying to ease the tension, Anakin pointed to a chair. "That's probably the most comfortable of the set."

"Thanks." Lucien sat down.

Anakin took a seat opposite him before he spoke again. "So."

"So?" Lucien followed, trying to avoid the inevitable awkwardness.

"Who was that guy you were with yesterday?" Luc innocently asked, still inspecting the room.

"Damien," he answered, trying to read his ex-boyfriend. Nothing. "He's a bio student, too."

"Ah. Do you like him?"

This time, eye contact was made, and Anakin thought for a moment that he saw a tinge of jealousy. He ignored it, equating it to fantasy; however, he could not do the same to the question.

Nevertheless he tried his best. "That's none of your business."

"I know." Lucien shifted in his seat. "I'm just trying to strike up a conversation."

"By bringing up the most awkward subject possible?"

Annie tilted his head to the side, brow deeply furrowed.

Lucien blushed. "Sorry, this is just – er…"

"Harder than you were expecting?" Anakin finished. "I know. I was expecting this to be a lot easier than—well, this."

Lucien nodded and his gaze drifted to the window. "That night at the bar, you seemed so—you…" He trailed off biting his lip.

They could not avoid the subject any longer. Anakin clenched his hands and dove in headfirst.

"I've been having visions," he whispered, not really wanting to believe himself. "They focus in on this demon. He's so familiar, but I can't place where I know him from. He's constantly running and thinking. I think he's mentioned you a few times, and once he thought about me or my brothers, I'm not sure. Then I met you, and it clicked. The demon—"

Anakin cleared his throat. "It can only be one person. There were only a few of us who knew what happened in that basement, Lucien. And when you mentioned the vision, I remembered—he had thought about how he was proud of you."

He could see the shock dawn on his ex's face. The feeling of shock was still fresh in his own head and heart. The pain and regret that he had lost his best friend because of this. He clamped his mouth shut and quieted his thoughts. He could not lose his nerve or his emotions now; he needed to finish.

Anakin continued, "Hellequin must have done something, Lucien. We vanquished Jonathan: nothing could have stopped that. Or rather, we vanquished whoever was in Jonathan's body."

There. He said it. The theory that had been plaguing him in the middle of the night.

"You think...?" Lucien trailed off, his eyes widening. Softly, he repeated, "You think they switched bodies." A frown creased his brow. "B-but why?"

And there was the hiccup in his neatly-laid out theory. It had been years since he had given any real thought to the disappearance of Hellequin, but it fit perfectly into the recent events. Yet he had not found a satisfactory explanation for why a demon that hated Jonathan with his very being would, at the last minute, sacrifice himself to save his rival.

"I don't know, Luc; I just don't know. It's why I never thought of it before." He stubbornly refused to stop staring into Lucien's brown eyes. Despite his best efforts, some of the guilt and sorrow slipped into his tone. "It—it's w-why I never believed you."

Lucien let out a long breath. "Okay."

Anakin waited anxiously as he watched the elemental digest everything. Their eyes met, and he gave a half smile, his heart racing.

"So you think he's alive as well."

"Yes, I think Jonathan is still alive." Anakin laughed, out of nervous habit.

"Oh, wow," said Lucien, running his hand through his hair. "That's...oh, wow." He leaned back into the couch, a look of concern on his face.

Anakin eyed Lucien's reaction carefully; he knew how big of a turn around this was. It was bound to make Lucien grapple with his handle on things, but then this was no small leap for him, either. He shook his head slightly: _stay focused_.

"But I also know he's in danger," he whispered.

"Yeah." Lucien nodded absently. He was coming to terms with this welcomed change of circumstances. "I've been getting that feeling as well. It was strong two nights ago, but I can't feel it now. It's always flashed in and out, but this time is different. It's like he's hiding—preparing for something."

"Lucien, whoever's attacking Jonathan is strong." Anakin leaned in. "He's insanely powerful. For him to threaten the former Source of All Evil he'd have to be at least that powerful, if not more so." Anakin paused, thinking of the best way to break his personal fears. But his mind would not cooperate and so he just spoke. "And if he's going after Jonathan—if he knows about you…"

"You think he'll come after me," Lucien muttered. It was a possibility he admitted to himself, but the likelihood of whoever was going after Jonathan, knowing about him was next to nothing.

"Yes," Anakin replied/answered. He was in his prime in this sort of argument, as much as he hated Prue using it on him; he knew that it had its place in keeping those he loved safe. "You're probably the only person or thing in the world that would draw Jonathan out into the open."

"Anakin," Lucien whispered. He could tell where Anakin was going, and he did not like it. "I thought I killed my brother, and then I learn that he is still alive." He paused, gathering steam. "We broke up because of this. Do you really think by telling me that some manic demon is going to be coming after me will stop me from looking? Is that why you accepted my invitation: to scare me off of searching?" Lucien was getting angry; no, he was already seething.

"No!" Anakin said. He needed Lucien to hear him out if they had any chance of saving Jonathan. "Look, I want to help Jonathan, Lucien. I want to help you, but we don't even know what we're getting ourselves into. I'm just saying we need to be careful." He looked pleadingly into Lucien's eyes, "Especially you."

"Thanks for the concern, Anakin," Lucien said somewhat callously, "but I'm not a damsel in distress for you to come in and rescue. I can look after myself." The elemental opened up his hand and a massive fireball appeared, proving his point.

"Fine," Anakin whispered, thinking quickly. He did not want to upset Lucien. "But you were the one who asked for help."

"Yes, _help_, Anakin. Not a rescue." Lucien looked firmly at Anakin. "We work together on this."

"Ok." Anakin nodded. "We work together." There would be no changing Lucien's mind on this matter, Anakin could see that. He sighed in defeat.

"Good. For a second I thought we were going to fight about this."

"Isn't that what we did best in the end?" Anakin asked without thinking.

Lucien looked away from Anakin. "No. We did other things much better, but they couldn't make up for our fighting."

They fell silent. Anakin looked idly around the room, all the while stealing glances at Lucien. Lucien had donned a dressier shirt than he normally wore. He was also wearing contacts; something the brown-haired witch only did when he was dressing up. Lucien hated contacts, but he hated the way glasses made him look like a nerd, so he compromised with himself. But the big thing that bothered Anakin was how little Lucien had aged. He could easily have passed as a seventeen-year-old and with a wardrobe change, possibly as young as fifteen. Considering Lucien was actually nineteen it was not a huge gap, but when Anakin usually passed for twenty-one when he went to bars other than his mother's, it was a bit disturbing. Not in a vanity sense, but just in a disconcerting sort of way.

"What have you been up to?" Anakin asked, breaking their minutes-long silence.

"In the past week, or since we split?"

Anakin smiled. "Since we split up, Lucien, and don't just glaze over it."

"Fine." Lucien looked at Anakin. "I left my dad's house about a week after we broke up. He couldn't deal with the fact that I thought my half-brother was still alive. I went and lived with my uncle for a bit and finished up tenth grade. My dad emancipated me and I dropped out of high school. My aunt was diagnosed with M.S. and I elected to move out and relieve some of the unnecessary stress on them. I went from odd job to odd job across the country. On occasion I would receive a vision, a glimpse into where Jonathan was and I would take off. My uncle Nicky left me a great deal of money, most of it I've spent on buying plane trips to the four corners of the globe.

"I'd come back after a trip and find another odd job. Twice, I got jobs that could have actually worked out, but then a vision would pop up. And I'd rip up my roots and move. You probably think that's stupid, but I don't care."

"It's not stupid," Anakin quickly replied. "I'd have done the same thing if it were any of my siblings."

Lucien just stared out the window. He knew Anakin was probably placating him, but he did not care. "Finally, the visions stopped, and I got a bit depressed. But a part of me, a larger part than I'm willing to admit, was relieved. I started working for a company in L.A.; my uncle Johnny got me the job. Then two months later, I got a phone call that my dad had been hospitalized with some unknown disease. All they knew was that it was causing his body to turn against itself. I got on a plane and left for New York. I got there in time to kiss him goodbye. I was..." Lucien blinked away the tears. He sniffed and continued, but not in the same steady tone: the pain was too fresh. "I was there for two minutes, and I lost him."

"Luc," Anakin began, voice was full of compassion, "I'm so sorry."

Lucien wiped away the tears. "We held the funeral a week later and I was scheduled to go back to L.A. the following Monday, but the visions had started up again. They led me here and then I met you."

"Wow," Anakin breathed. "You don't look like you've had such a stressful life."

Lucien chuckled and sniffled. "You look great, too."

"Where are you living?" Anakin got up. He walked over to the kitchen and brought back a box of tissues.

Lucien accepted a tissue and dried his eyes. "I've been living in a hotel, but that can only last until the end of the week. Unless I get a job."

"You—" Anakin started but stopped.

"Thanks, Annie." Lucien half-smiled. "But that would not go over so well with your sister. And I don't want to be any more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden, Luc," Anakin said firmly, taking his seat. "You're a friend, and friends help each other out.

"Yeah, well, I don't need to be cramping your style," Lucien murmured.

He fidgeted in his seat, reached down behind him, and pulled out a pair of underwear. "You don't wear Hanes."

Anakin's eyes widened. "It's not—"

"Relax, Annie," Lucien chuckled. "I knew would move on. You're eighteen and free to have whoever you like sleep on your couch." Lucien placed the underwear on the table; Anakin orbed it away, blushing. "Uncle Johnny already offered to buy me a place, anyway. It's just taking a bit longer than he was expecting."

"Damien just slept over, Luc. That's all!"

"Anakin, please, you don't have to explain yourself. He seemed like a very nice person. I approve, although I don't think he likes me."

"He doesn't know you," said Anakin, feeling awkward and wanting to move off the subject as quickly as possible.

"What's for lunch?" Lucien asked standing up. "I haven't eaten a thing all day."

"Oh! You should have said something." Anakin stood up. "We can go to this café I know or we can eat whatever's in the fridge. Prue is constantly bringing me things so I'm sure there is something edible in there."

"The café sounds nice," Lucien decided. "Save the dinners for when you're eating by yourself."

"Between my three siblings, that is never," Anakin joked grabbing his keys.

"Well I'm surprised they allowed you to move out here without them."

"Wyatt and Chris aren't happy about it, but they'll get over it." Anakin led the way to the elevator. "Besides, this has been my plan since we started thinking about university."

Lucien nodded, reminiscing. "Who was I kidding when I said I'd make it into Johns Hopkins?"

Anakin laughed. "You'd have done just fine. Most of the people in my classes sound like a bunch of idiots who have rich daddies."

"And exactly what part of that statement was supposed to cheer me up?" Lucien inquired, joking.

As they boarded the elevator, Anakin brought up, "Did you hear about the plan to investigate the whole Jonathan fiasco?"

Lucien shook his head. "There has been nothing about it on the news."

"Yeah, I know, but the whole of magic seems to be up in arms about it." Anakin dropped his voice when two other people climbed into the lift. "Chris and Wyatt have been assigned a couple more charges because of it."

"Wow. I guess they're taking it pretty seriously."

Anakin nodded. "Kyle, Prue's fiancé, heard about it through his contact on the Hill."

"Wonder why they're deciding to do this now," Lucien muttered, glancing at the couple who seemed to be minding their own business. "Shouldn't this have happened seven years ago?"

"You would think." The elevator doors opened and they got out. The new security guard waved at Anakin who waved back good naturedly. "But if they start an investigation, it could mean very bad things, especially if we have another Source on the rise."

"I doubt any Source is going to be as bold as Jonathan was though," Lucien said while keeping up with Anakin's brisk pace. "I mean, both sides have usually kept the whole secrecy rule."

"True, but a big battle is harder to hide than a minor scuffle. " Anakin stopped at the traffic light. "And with Jonathan back..."

"What do you think those dog things were?" Lucien asked softly.

Anakin shrugged. "Who knows? There's nothing matching them in the Book."

"They seem pretty powerful, whatever they are," Lucien murmured. "Jonathan was having a hard time with them."

"And they kept on coming," Anakin whispered, greeting the maître d'. He requested a table for two and sat down next to Lucien. "But they have some connection to Hellequin, because they responded whenever Jonathan used Hellequin's po--gifts."

Lucien sucked on his lip, pensive. "So we've heard about everyone except you. What have you been doing?"

Anakin shrugged. "I went to school. I went to prom with a couple of my buddies, graduated with honors, and now I'm here. I became an uncle about year and a half ago. I've read the entire _Star Wars_ series cover to cover." This caused Lucien to cough. "Yes, I know: I hated _Star Wars_, but I kind of got into it."

"'Kind of'?" Lucien arched an eyebrow. "Kind of is watching the movies once or twice. Reading all one thousand books cover to cover is something no words in the English language can describe."

Anakin laughed softly. "Fine, I loved them! I'm naming my first kid Luke or Mara."

"Oh!" Lucien snorted. "And how are you going to explain that to your significant other?"

"Same way my mom did to my dad when they named me," Anakin stated simply.

"Which is?"

Anakin cracked a grin, spoiling the suspense. "I'll threaten them with dismemberment by explosion. My dad accepted the name right on the spot."

Lucien burst out laughing. "I can see your mom totally doing that!"

Anakin grinned. "Yeah, I know."

"Sirs, your table is ready." The maître d' was back, looking grumpy.

"Sorry," Lucien apologized, swallowing his chuckles.

"Yeah, Lucien: you should know better," Anakin teased.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly," the maître d' curtly said and left.

Leaning across the table, Lucien grumbled, "What's up his ass?"

"Don't really want to find out," Anakin returned. "But it must be painful."

"Well, anyway, how are Chris and Wyatt?"

"Wyatt's struggling through school and in a blissful relationship. Chris is flying through med school and alone. Nothing's changed since high school."

"So it's Wyatt's kid, then?" Lucien asked.

"Yip." Anakin smiled proudly. "Zach is a perfect eighteen-month-old and already has all the girls trailing him."

"He must be something," Lucien muttered.

"He is." Anakin said wistfully before focusing back on Luc. "You should meet him some time."

"Are you insane, Annie?" Lucien hissed. "If your family ever sees me, they'll rip me to shreds."

"No they wouldn't," Anakin dismissed. "Prue might scream at you, but the rest of them will deal. I was eleven when we got together; I don't think any of them expected us to last forever."

"Still don't think they'll be jumping for joy if I showed up on the Manor's doorstep." Lucien stated matter-of-factly.

Anakin shifted his gaze to the approaching waiter.

"What can I get you?" the waiter asked, not even looking up from his notepad.

"Water for me and the turkey club," Lucien ordered with a smile.

"You sure you just want water?" Anakin asked, flipping through the menu.

"Yes, Annie, I'm fine." he said in a definitive tone.

"Ok." Anakin looked up at the waiter. "I'll have the same, thank you."

"Two waters and two turkey clubs," the waiter read off his slip. "They'll be out in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Anakin stated again. He turned back to Lucien. "You know you're not paying, right?"

"Why not?" I'm the one who asked you out." Lucien argued.

"Because my mom owns this little café."

"She does?" Lucien looked around. "It's nice."

"It's different," Anakin concluded. "Her friend's the chef and they were having some money problems. So my mom bought them out and kept her friend as the head chef. So lunch is free for any of Piper's family members and we get ten percent off on dinners."

"It's going to be a Halliwell empire soon enough," Lucien commented.

"Yip, we just need a realtor in the family and we'll have all the bases covered."

"So if your mom owns her restaurant chain, her club mini-empire, and this little quiee café, why on earth are you living in that dump hole?" Lucien asked.

"I like to be independent and different. Go against the flow, you know: that sort of stuff." Anakin answered nonchalantly.

Lucien nodded. "Well, I guess that makes some sort of sense."

"Both Chris and Wyatt are having to put themselves through college, and I don't want to be babied." Anakin explained. "And I certainly don't want special treatment."

Lucien smirked. "So what do you call a free lunch?"

Anakin opened his mouth and closed it.

Lucien laughed, "Anakin relax. I get it; I do. If I had the life you did, I'd probably make the same choice. I'm just in a budget crisis."

"I'm not judging you," Anakin quickly said.

"Never thought you were, Annie." Lucien scooted back from his seat and stood. "I'll be right back."

Anakin nodded. "It's to the right of the kitchen."

"Thanks." Lucien walked away.

Lucien had barely left the table when Anakin's cell phone started to ring. Anakin dug it out of his jeans pocket and groaned. It was Wyatt. _One, two, three,_ he counted and put on a smile. "Hey Wy, what are you up to?" Anakin waited and looked around as Wyatt dodged the real reason he was phoning. "That's nice," Anakin commented, not listening to a word his brother said. Then there was a long moment of silence. "Wy?" More deafening stillness. Anakin checked the door leading inside the café, making sure Lucien was not coming back. "Wy? You there?"

Wyatt muttered a "yes" followed by a deep breath.

"Are you seeing Lucien?" Wyatt's voice was hesitant: like he knew the monster he was unleashing. Anakin almost felt sorry for him.

"Yes," Anakin said shortly. "You can sense that I'm seeing him, Wyatt."

"Is that the best idea?" Wyatt pressed. Clearly someone else was listening into the conversation, and that someone was controlling the strings.

"Are you with our sister?" Anakin asked, ignoring Wyatt's question.

Wyatt was silent, but Anakin could picture the older blond looking over his shoulder, shell-shocked. "Err—she phoned earlier."

"Wy," Anakin cut the young father's lie short, "don't lie. It doesn't work for you."

"She's just worried about you." Now he was the one dodging the question.

"Give the phone to her," Anakin demanded, still watching for Lucien.

There was the sound of scratching, and then: "Annie?"

"Prue." Anakin smiled, but not out of joy. He was annoyed.

"Look, I'm just worried…"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Prue, I love you to death, but butt out of my love life!" He slammed the phone shut, fuming.

Lucien returned to the table, frowning. "You ok?"

"Yeah." Anakin faked a smile.

Lucien nodded toward the cell phone on the table. "Who was on the phone?"

Anakin shrugged. "A wrong number."

Lucien eyed him carefully. "O-kay. Ah, our food."

The waiter approached, tray in hand. "Turkey clubs and water," the he announced. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No thank you." Anakin glanced at Lucien, who shook his head.

"Alright." The waiter turned and left.

"He's warmed up a bit," Lucien noted, opening his straw.

"He's a new kid," Anakin explained. "They like to assign me the new kids, kind of a hazing, I guess."

"Freak the new kid out by giving him the boss's son's table?" inquired Lucien as he took a sip. "Sounds horrible."

Anakin chuckled. "Yeah, but I give a big tip, so it makes up for the initial terror. Or at least I hope so."

"So you pay them to stay on?" Lucien frowned. "That doesn't sound legal. It's like hush money."

Anakin smirked. "You know us made-men: always got to keep our employees quiet. Can't have them talking to any coppers."

"How is the rest of your family?"

"They're doing great. Mom and Dad are as happy as clams, aside from my leaving San Fran. Phoebe and Coop are on their anniversary cruise to the Bahamas. Paige and Henry, last I heard, were planning a trip to Hawaii for Henry's vacation. My cousins are still in school or working at Magic School for the most part. They all have significant others and are perfectly happy. Well, except for Payton; she moved out here with Prue last year to start modeling. That fell through, and she refuses to go back to Magic School and teach. But she's always off having fun with the boyfriend of the minute."

"I'm sure Phoebe and Coop are thrilled about that," said Lucien, having swallowed a mouthful of sandwich.

Anakin shrugged. "If they are irked by it they don't let it show in front of us. And I personally think it is a good thing she's finally connected with the real world."

"I guess, as long as she's not being self-destructive."

"She's fine," Anakin stated. "Prue's there to mother her and keep her in line."

He obviously did not keep the annoyance out of his tone because Lucien stared at him intently.

Anakin waved his hand. "It's nothing, Luc. We have our spats just like every other normal siblings."

"And it has nothing to do with me?" Lucien asked in a knowing sort of way.

"She has a problem with me seeing you, yes, but it's none of her business." Anakin picked up his water and took a sip. "I'm old enough to choose my own friends, thank you very much."

"Hey, I always thought they over-babied you," said Lucien, as he put down his piece of bread. "But don't lose sight of where they are coming from. They love you more than anything and just don't want to see you get hurt by anyone."

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"No," Lucien sincerely answered. "I never meant to hurt you in the first place, Annie."

"I know," Anakin said quickly.

Lucien smiled. "We should probably head back. I'm meeting Uncle Johnny at three."

"Is Uncle Johnny in the area?" Anakin asked.

"No. He's still in New Jersey, but I'll—" Lucien stopped short to glance around, "I'll transport us back here. We're looking at houses."

"That's nice," Anakin muttered, finding his thoughts drifting elsewhere. He was disappointed and doing his best to avoid those feelings. Anakin waved the waiter over. "Can you bring the check?"

"Sure," the waiter agreed still a bit jittery. "Is that all?"

"Yes, thank you." Anakin smiled. "And by the way," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "you did an excellent job."

"Thank you." The young man brightened and walked away from the table with an extra spring in his step.

"So what days do you have classes?"

"Every day, really," Anakin said. "On the days that I have one or two classes, I'll be working."

"You free on the weekends?' Lucien asked as he played with his unused spoon.

"For the moment," Anakin admitted, suppressing a smile. "But once a few grants get approved, work will take up a lot of my time, not to mention the constant studying." He accepted the check from the returned waiter

"Ah," Lucien sighed. "That sucks."

Anakin smiled. "I enjoy my job, so it's not too bad. And I'm hoping classes are at least interesting."

"But you'll have no social life," Lucien said, grinning.

Anakin's eyes widened. "Yeah! That does suck!" Anakin smirked and stood up. "This was nice."

Lucien nodded, following him. "It was pleasant. We should do it again."

Anakin led the way out the café, happiness radiating through him. "What days are you free?"

"I'm pretty much open until I get a job."

"How does next week sound?"

Lucien's brows creased in thought. "Yeah, OK."

"It's settled then." Anakin stopped at a corner. "Where are you leaving from?"

Lucien shrugged. "Best place would be a quiet alley, but those are few and far between."

"You're welcome to use my apartment," Anakin suggested. "If a demon is going to find me, he is going to find me, anyways."

"Are you sure?" Lucien sounded hesitant.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Don't you turn into Prue as well, Luc." Lucien's lips twitched, and Anakin collected his thoughts for a second. "Demons have not made any real attempt on our lives since Jonathan. We just need to be cautious, that's all."

Lucien frowned. "And having me use your apartment as a magical train station is 'cautious?'"

"Yes," Anakin said firmly. "As long as it's not an everyday occurrence, we'll be fine."

The brown-haired witch gave Anakin a calculating look. "Alright, but just this one time. Thanks."

"You're more than welcome." Anakin searched in his pockets for his keys. "I'll probably be out when you get back, so don't freak out if I'm not there."

As Lucien walked through the opened door, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"I've got some errands to run and I need to check in at the lab." Anakin said, stepping into the elevator.

The elevator ride was endured in comfortable silence. Anakin mused. He was surprised how easily they had fallen back into a comfortable rhythm with each other. There certainly were some awkward spots and he had a lot of emotions to still deal with. But the blond was relieved to see that they could spend a few hours together without a huge blow-up or argument. Anakin knew he was nowhere near close to letting Lucien be as close of a friend as the elemental had once been, but Anakin felt satisfied with once again calling Lucien "a friend."

"Will you be back to let me and my uncle in again?" Lucien asked once they were back in the apartment.

Anakin shrugged. "Not sure, but you can call me if I'm not here. I'm not going to be doing anything vitally important. And you'll probably be saving me from some mind-bogglingly boring set-up for a lab, so don't hesitate to call."

"Same number?" Lucien asked, pulling out his shabby cell phone.

"Sí, señor."

Lucien nodded. "Well, Uncle Johnny will be pleased he'll be able to finally meet the infamous Anakin Halliwell. He still talks about you, you know."

Anakin shook his head. "Yeah, I've still got the letter those three sent me for my fourteenth birthday."

"The song?" Lucien laughed. "Why did you keep that?"

Anakin shrugged. "If I was ever low on money, I could sell it."

"I'm sure it will go for millions," Lucien joked.

"Hey! Every dollar counts when you're down on your luck."

Lucien's smile faded. "Well, see you later then. Hopefully."

"Yeah, definitely. I'm going to want to meet the man who compared me to a 'fiery steed,'" said Anakin, struggling to keep a straight face.

Lucien laughed and vanished into the floor with a wave goodbye. Anakin chuckled to himself and walked over to his front counter. "Fiery steed." Anakin shook his head and walked out the door.

The door shut and the room grew eerily quiet. Then a soft rumble announced Owain as he flamed in with a grin playing on his lips. "Miley! Beast!" He called.

In two ripples, the two mentioned demons appeared in the living room of Anakin's apartment. "Owain," they addressed as they bowed.

Owain stared intently at them. "I want one of you trailing Anakin at all times."

"As you wish," Beast growled.

Miley frowned at Owain. "What about my job?"

"That is why I put Beast on it as well, Miley." Owain sighed in frustration. "If Jonathan actually keeps eluding Beast's little friends, he will seek out the Halliwells for help. I do not want that to happen."

"Why would the ex-Source come to the person with the most reason to hate him?" Beast's voice was deep and scratchy, like it was used to howling more than speaking.

"Because," Owain drawled softly, glaring at Beast, "Anakin is the Halliwell closest to Jonathan's half-brother. He is the most likely Halliwell to give him the time of day."

"But would he not come directly to us if we got hold of his elemental brother?" Miley suggested.

"And it would also pull the entire Halliwell line into the conflict," Owain hissed. "Something I do not need until I have Hellequin's powers coursing through my veins."

Beast turned back to face Owain. "Why did you summon us here, Owain?"

"Because," Owain began as he raised his hand, "I want Anakin to know we're coming after him."

"But why?" Beast growled. "I thought—"

"Quiet, Beast! I have my reasons." Owain placed his hand on the back of the couch. "Miley, did you brew the potions I require?"

She nodded and opened her handbag. "One for each room, as you requested."

"Good." Owain took the vials. He remained silent, eyeing the room with evil wisdom. "Beast, go track Anakin. Miley, I want you to ensure that the President signs the bill into law today. I think it is time good magic felt what it is like to be persecuted."

The two demons shimmered out. Owain went to the bedroom and opened the cupboard housing the Book of Shadows. He threw all the potion vials, one at a time, at the Book. Each one broke and let out a puff of grey smoke. The triquetra on the cover glowed angrily to which Owain laughed.

"Fight all you want, Melinda, but it will all be in vain. My magic is stronger than your pathetic powers."

The triquetra's glow died down and the smoke dispersed. Owain nodded and flamed out.

The Book of Shadows slipped off its stand, fell to the floor and opened, revealing the effects of the potions. All the pages were blank.


	6. Dirty Little Secret

Dirty Little Secret

"Anakin?" Wyatt paced back and forth in his loft's living room, phone in hand. In the nearby blue material cot slept Zach, completely oblivious to the world crashing down around him. "For god's sakes, Annie, pick up the damn phone!"

"Sweetie," Sarah warned from the kitchen, "language." The young wife came out of the kitchen and placed a soft comforting hand on his tense shoulder.

He placed the phone none too gently on the side table. "Sarah, the President is declaring war on magic and you want me to watch my language. Seriously?"

"He's not declared war yet," she said softly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "And it's not like they know you guys are witches anyway."

"Who said they don't know, Sar?" he asked rhetorically. "Mom and the aunts were caught numerous times. Hell, they worked for Homeland Security for a bit. We're going to be the first the government comes to 'question.'"

"And you're jumping to the conclusion that they are going to question anyone," Sarah rebuked mildly. "Nothing's been said yet. We only know that the President is going to address the nation about a bill he signed into law concerning the events seven years ago. That is a very broad topic to narrow down to 'he's coming after us.'"

He sighed, but did not give up. "Doesn't rule it out, honey, and Anakin is out there—"

"And he's a big boy, Wy." She smiled and caressed his cheek. "He can look after himself."

He stubbornly clung to his righteous anger. "But what if he needs my help?"

"He'll call you, just like he's done every time before this." She pulled him gently over to their baby's crib. "He's not going anywhere. Not while he has his godson to protect."

Wyatt wrapped his arms around his wife's thin waist and rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "I still struggle to believe that he's mine. That we have a child," he said with awe and wonder.

"I know." She leaned into the embrace, smiling. "He's too perfect to be ours."

"My mom invited us to dinner, if you want to go," he said softly, not wanting to break the moment.

"I think it will be a good idea to attend; we missed the last family dinner." Sarah disengaged herself from his arms. "But we can't stay too late. I have an exam tomorrow."

"I'll phone my mom and tell her we're coming," he whispered, tearing his eyes off the sleeping child.

She nodded and smiled brightly. "And don't worry. He'll call."

With that she left the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

Wyatt picked up the phone and dialed the Manor's number. While he waited for his mom to pick up the phone, he turned on the news. Every station was discussing the exact nature of the President's address. Some were replaying footage from seven years ago. The world looked completely different: it was a war zone back then. San Francisco had taken the brunt of the damage, and it was still recovering from the devastation.

Other parts of the country had also felt the sting of demonic forces. Crop production had dropped forty per cent during the brief three years Jonathan had free reign. Wyatt knew of three countries that had over half their population wiped out, and even America had had a significant dip in its population.

But a whisper of magic had never been heard. Then again, if it had not been for Kyle, they would not have had a heads up on the scheming in Washington. He wondered just how much the people already knew and how much they were guessing correctly.

He glanced back over at the cot where his son slept. Well, no matter what they thought, he knew one thing: no one was going to touch his son or wife.

"Wyatt?" Piper's voice brought him back to reality.

"Mom?" He shut the TV off and walked over to a chair.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" She sounded a bit older and wearier, but still had the energy and spunk to pass for a woman half her age.

"Is your offer still open? I know it's late, but…" He stopped mid-sentence; Zach was stirring.

His mom answered despite the unfinished explanation. "Don't worry about it. I was planning on you coming just in case. Your dad might be a bit upset, because it means there won't be any leftovers while I'm gone to Florida."

"You're still going on the business trip?" Wyatt asked, his voice rising.

His brief spot of anger woke Zach woke up. The toddler gave a tiny whimper.

"Is that my favorite grandson I heard?" Piper cooed over the phone.

He smirked despite himself. "He's a year-and-a-half, Mom."

"So?" she responded indignantly. "He's still the only grandchild I have. I'll coo to him whenever I please, or do I have to remind you that the family nearly died when you were born?"

He laughed. "Mom, that's not fair and you know it."

He pressed the speaker button.

"Here's Zach."

He looked down at his son. "Zach, your Grandma Piper wants to talk to you."

Zach smiled broadly and giggled. "Granma?"

"Hey! Zach," Piper called over the phone. "You ready to come visit me and Grandpa Leo?"

"Yippee" The eighteen-month-old orbed in and out in excitement.

"Mom?" Wyatt placed a calming hand on his kid's head. "You didn't answer my question."

"I know, Wyatt. I'm old, not senile," she half-joked. "Yes, I'm still going to Florida, and then I'm spending the weekend up in Baltimore to visit your sister and brother."

"What about the bill?" the young father asked, taking Zach out of the crib and putting him on the floor with a few building blocks.

She remained silent for a few seconds. "What about it?"

"Aren't you worried?" He was in disbelief that he could be the only one in his whole family taking this thing seriously.

"Of course I'm a bit peeved about the whole thing, but we've been expecting something like this since Jonathan took over." She was choosing her words carefully; he could tell. "But at the end of the day, if the government is going to question me, it doesn't really matter if I'm here or on the East Coast, does it?"

"What about Dad?" he argued. "At least you can freeze your way out of trouble. Dad's helpless."

"Don't let your father hear you say that," she admonished. "Leo's very resourceful, and if push comes to shove, he can call for any one of you to come and help him. And, darling, the government isn't going to be interested in us. We're just a bunch of ordinary citizens. They can't prove anything else."

"Oh no?" He got up and took phone off speaker. "Daddy's going to the kitchen, Zach."

He walked into the kitchen and shut the door. "What about all the work you did for Homeland Security? Or Agent Jackman? If he had a file, Mom, you can bet other people did as well."

Piper breathed out heavily. "Wyatt, all those records were destroyed when we went to work for Homeland. It was one of our demands. And Homeland is not going to be releasing any of the information we gathered for them. They'll look like idiots if the public found out they knew about magic before Jonathan."

"Mom!" Wyatt exclaimed, still worried. "The government had a files on you and Phoebe and Paige and probably Prue, too. That does not just disappear. And besides, what about Chris's arrest warrant? That's still on file, you know that. It's been a hiccup in every interview process Chris has ever been on."

"I know," she whispered, trying to keep him calm. "When you put things that way, then we have a little bit of a problem."

"A little bit?" Wyatt exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "Mom, we're going to be the first people the FBI comes to pick up."

"And we'll deal with it if it gets to that," Piper said still in her calm, motherly voice. "But the President has not even addressed the nation yet, and you're ready to think the worst. If they start a witch hunt then we will work it out. We just need to be careful and stay off their radar. All those old things are exactly that, Wy: they're old. They're long before Jonathan, and from what I heard, the bill concerns just Jonathan."

"You think that's going to stop them from probing backwards?" Wyatt sighed, trying to think up a more rational argument. "Come on! You lived through the whole 9-11 terrorism scare."

"I know how horrible a witch hunt can be, alright? I still dream about the timeline where Phoebe was burned at the stake, but that does not mean I'm going to let that fear control my life." Piper sighed. "Sweetie, I am going to Florida."

Wyatt bit his lip. "Fine See you at dinner." He put the phone down. Sarah came into the kitchen. "Don't, Sar. Just – don't."

Sarah shrugged. "Come on, we need to leave."

"Doesn't she see that we need to stay close together?" Wyatt asked as he stood up. "The more spread out we are, the more vulnerable we can be."

Sarah handed him Zach's bag and her own. "It's not like she's going to Timbuktu, just Florida." She bent down and picked up Zach.

"Timbuktu would probably be safer," Wyatt muttered.

"Wyatt, you guys have faced down countless demons. I doubt a bunch of humans are going to be a big threat," Sarah stated over her shoulder. "And if all goes to heck, we can all live at Magic School."

"Oh, god!" Wyatt groaned. "That's not a comforting thought."

Sarah grinned. "Well, no matter what, I've learned one thing about Halliwells."

"Yeah?" Wyatt leaned against the car, looking into Sarah's eyes. "What's that?"

"You persevere," she stated simply. "And that is all I have to know, to know that we'll come out of this just fine."

Wyatt smiled. "I hope you're right, Sar. I really do."

They got into the car and pulled out of the garage.

As the car passed the corner of the apartment complex, a man in a suit and a purple tie made his way into the building. He stopped to watch the car pass, and he grinned to himself. The car turned the corner and disappeared. Owain took a step forward and vanished in a cloud of flames. He reappeared in Wyatt and Sarah's bedroom. The demon walked up to the dresser and opened the bottom door. There lay another Book of Shadows.

Its triquetra glowed furiously and a wave of magic knocked Owain over. He laughed and raised his hand. There was a loud squelching sound and a wind swept across the room, disrupting everything. The Book reacted and attacked again, but this time he was ready for it. The demon caught the bolt of magic in the palm of his hand and squeezed the life out of it.

"Really, Melinda, I was expecting so much more from you," Owain taunted the Book.

The brown-eyed demon glared at the Book, his eyes turning pitch black. The triquetra glowed brightly and the ground shook. There was a flash of yellow and orange from the Book and a small gasp from him. The whole room shook and the dresser fell forward. He whipped his hand in a circle and the dresser was thrown back against the wall. Casually he bent down and picked up the Book. Boils quickly started to form on his hand, but he ignored them. The triquetra blazed orange again, but a dark cloud was extruded out of Owain's fingers. The cloud covered the triquetra and the Book fought like a wild animal in the final seconds on its life. Grinning triumphantly he tightened his grip.

"You can't win, Melinda. I will destroy the Halliwells, and there's not a damn thing you can do."

He threw the Book unceremoniously across the room. It slapped against the corner of the bedroom's threshold and fell to the floor, no longer glowing. Owain pulled out another collection of potions similar in size and color as the one he had used in Anakin's apartment.

"And Miley thinks these are to curse the apartment." He shook his head, disappointed. "What a fool she is."

He threw the potions one at a time onto the cover of the Book. Each let out a puff of smoke that sunk into its pages. The triquetra flicked, as if trying to fight. The final potion broke and the Book shuddered one last time. Owain bent down and flicked through the pages: all blank. He looked at the destroyed room.

"Welcome to the war, Wyatt. Pity you won't last all that long." Owain vanished, letting the empty Book fall back onto the floor.

Anakin walked into his apartment and knew immediately something was wrong. Without a thought, he shut the door and conjured a fire ball. The room was quiet and cast in darkness.

"Lucien?" Anakin called out. Lucien had not called and he had been caught up in the office much longer than he had expected. "You here?"

There was no answer. Anakin cautiously made his way to the entrance of the kitchen. He fumbled along the wall, searching for the light switch. All the while, he kept his eyes peeled for movement. His fingers met the cold plastic of the switch, and he flipped the lights on. Nothing happened. _Crap_! He cursed inwardly. He backed his way into the kitchen and felt his way along the counter. He reached the bend and glanced backwards to find the cupboard door. He opened the cupboard and pulled out a couple of candles. With a whispered spell, he lit the candles, and with a wave of his hand, the candles floated to all the various corners of the apartment. But no one was there.

Anakin muttered a series of well-chosen curse words and went to check his messages: three from Wyatt, one from Chris, and a dozen from Prue. _Typical_, he thought with a shake of his head. But he was grateful that none of them had gotten so hysterical that they had tried his cell phone. His little shouting match with Prue earlier must have gotten through to them. He picked up the phone, which was also dead. _Just freaking great_! He pulled out his cell phone.

"Hi, this is Anakin Halliwell. I don't have any power." Anakin spoke in calm tone, but he was very peeved. Someone had been in his apartment, and he did not like that feeling. "Oh, ok. Thank you."

Anakin waited a few minutes and suddenly everything sprang to life. The phone started to ring and Anakin picked it up. "Yes, thank you, everything is working."

Feeling a bit safer with all the lights on, Anakin collected the candles and put them back in their cupboard. He then phoned Lucien, who did not pick up immediately. But on his second try Anakin, got through. "Luc?"

"Anakin!" Lucien sounded remorseful. "Sorry I didn't call. Uncle Johnny and I found a house and – time got away from me."

"No, that's ok." Anakin breathed a sigh of relief. "So are you guys still going to drop by or what?"

"No, we're still planning to drop by." Lucien then said something to his uncle. "Yeah, we won't be more than a half-an-hour. Is that alright?"

"Yes, that's great." Anakin walked over to the living room and sat down. "I was just checking in."

"Ok." Lucien paused. "I'll see you, Annie."

"Yeah, bye." Anakin put the phone down.

Now that he was sitting down and the initial shock was wearing off, the feeling of danger was more distinct. A demon had definitely been in his apartment, and by the feelings of it, it was more than just one. He closed his eyes, trying to get a clearer picture of the demons, but something was blocking him. He did find a trail, then another, and finally a third. _So, there were three_. Anakin ignored the two that appeared to just vanish. _They must have shimmered out_. But one led down the corridor to his bedroom. Anakin got up and followed it. He reached the room and the growing sense of dread settled in. A shiver went up his spine. He opened the door to find the room completely void of a demon. It was exactly how he had left it.

The blond entered the room and looked around. The darkness centered in on his bed, but a strand led to his closet. Shaking his head at the thought, he opened the closet. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Anakin pulled aside his dress up jackets. The Book still sat in its spot, surrounded by the various protective herbs and crystals his mother had set up. He muttered the countering spell and the invisible cage around the Book dropped. He reached in and picked it up. As soon as his fingers grazed the cover, his breath quickened, but the premonition never came. Anakin frowned and quickly removed the Book from the closet. He opened it and gasped. _Holy freaking – WYATT_!

Anakin dropped the Book on his bed and ran back into the living room. "Wyatt! Chris! Crap." He fumbled for his cell phone. "Crap, crap, crap!"

"Prue?' Anakin yelled. "Prue, pick up the goddamn phone!"

"Annie?" Prue sounded a bit annoyed. "Can this wait?"

"No, it can't," Anakin spoke over her indignant tone. "Someone wiped my Book of Shadows clean."

"Wait, hold on a sec," Prue muttered. There was some shuffling and a moan from a guy. Anakin guessed it was Kyle. "Okay, what did you say again?"

"A demon, or warlock, or something, I don't know which – but the Book, Prue! It's completely blank. There's nothing in it, zip, zero, zilch!" Anakin knew he sounded crazy, but that did not matter. The Book had been tampered with by a demon. That had never happened before. "Check yours and Payton's Books."

"Okay, Annie, just relax." Prue tried to sound reasonable, strong, but Anakin could tell she was just as freaked out as he was.

"Who could have done this?" Anakin spoke just to keep himself from thinking. "I mean, not even Jonathan could break through the Book's protections."

"Yeah, not that he ever really tried," Prue muttered. "And you need to remember that these are just copies. The real Book is much stronger than any of these replicas."

"They're strong enough," Anakin countered. "Wyatt, Mom, and I worked for a month on the spell to replicate the Book. We were very specific. Everything was to be replicated, including the protection spells."

"I don't know, Annie," Prue stated over the sounds of scratching. "Did you add extra protections?"

"Yeah." Anakin walked back into his room and stared at the blank tome. "Mom added a dozen protections and I've been adding wards as I think of them. Prue, no one should have been able to get near this."

Prue screamed. "Oh my freaking god! I can't believe it: I used this thing yesterday!"

"Could it be Abraxas? It would explain why none of us sensed the Books missing – I mean, we've all been distracted," Anakin thought out loud looking at the walls. He already knew that Abraxas had nothing to do with the current crisis. He had sensed the demon's trail. Abraxas never left his hellhole of a dimension. "Or maybe Cole. He's gotten past the wards once before."

"Yeah, but only by splitting up the Power of Three first." Prue was still flipping through the pages. "It's all gone. Nothing's here. Crap!"

"Prue." Anakin paused; he felt vulnerable without the Book. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"No idea, Annie." Prue was at a complete loss for words. "Payton's visiting Aunt Paige and Kyle's fine here – maybe we should go to the Manor."

"And do what?" Anakin questioned. "We don't even have a clue where to start searching. And it'll just get Mom and Dad on edge."

"Wyatt and Chris," Prue muttered. "Do you think they got to their Books as well?"

"No clue," Anakin whispered, picking up the green-covered book and replacing it in the closet. "I've not phoned them yet."

"And they didn't call you?" Prue asked, and Anakin could hear that she remembered calling him. "Annie, have you spoken to anyone today since lunch?"

Anakin shook his head out of habit. "No, I've been out all day."

"So you've not watched the news at all today?" Prue was drawing this out.

Anakin bunched his hands into fists. _Could this day get any worse_? "No. Why?"

"The President is addressing the nation in half an hour." Prue paused and the sounds of a drawer closing drifted over the phone line. "Legislation has been signed into law concerning the event seven years ago. It doesn't sound all that good for magic."

Anakin nodded. _So Kyle had been right_. "Okay, but I think the whole Book issue is more pressing at the moment, Prue. One problem at a time." Anakin's phone started to ring. "Just hold on a sec." He orbed his house phone into his hand. "Hello? Oh! Lucien. Yeah, come right up." He hung up the phone. "I have to go. Phone Wyatt and Chris; see if they've been attacked as well."

"Annie—" Prue started, but Anakin ended the call before she could begin.

Anakin took a deep breath and checked himself out in the mirror. He was paler than normal, but there was little he could do about that. The doorbell rang, and Anakin bit his lip. He glanced at his bedroom one last time and walked down the corridor. He fidgeted with his collar as he walked to the front door; he placed a hand firmly on the door handle and got the feeling of an oncoming premonition, but once again, the vision never came. The confused witch frowned and opened the door.

"Annie!" Lucien greeted with a smile. "I'd like you to meet my uncle Johnny. Uncle Johnny, this is Anakin Halliwell."

"It's a pleasure, sir," Anakin said pleasantly, extending his hand.

Uncle Johnny took the offered hand in a firm handshake. "The pleasure is all mine, Anakin, and please: call me Johnny." The two Jonases entered the apartment.

"Sorry for the clutter," Anakin said, suddenly feeling horribly out of his element. "I'm usually neater, but something came up – and it's made me a bit forgetful."

"Is everything ok?" Lucien asked, shaking his head at Anakin's foolishness.

"Yeah," Anakin said absentmindedly. "It's nothing big, but you know how those things go."

Johnny nodded with a frown. "So, Luc tells me you're a student at Johns Hopkins."

Anakin showed them to the living room. "Yeah, it's been fun so far. Do you want anything to drink?"

Lucien shook his head. Johnny smiled. "Thanks, but no thanks. What are you studying?"

"Biology." Anakin took a seat. "Going to try and be a researcher."

"Ah, I see." Johnny was impressed. "Well, I was pleasantly surprised to hear that you and Luc had become friends again."

"Yes." Anakin smiled despite himself. "It has been one of the highlights of my week."

Lucien looked at his watch. "Don't you need to be getting back, Uncle Johnny?"

The older man nodded. "Yeah, but I can spare a few minutes, Luc."

"I heard that you played at my mom's LA club a couple of months back."

Johnny nodded. "It was very fun. Not the usual people I play for these days, but they seemed to enjoy it."

"Yeah, I heard you were a very big hit." Anakin twiddled his thumbs. "Mom was debating to bring you up to San Fran, but things didn't work out or something."

"Oh?" The man frowned. "I never heard about that. I must talk to my manager."

"Luc," Anakin said, looking at the elemental. "You found a house?"

"Yeah." Lucien nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. "It's perfect. Even got an extra bedroom in case I have a visitor and it's close to a shopping center, so it'll hopefully be close to wherever I end up working."

"You know that your old job is still paying you right, Luc." Johnny stated. "Your boss has been in contact with me. He's quite willing to let you work from the East Coast until you get everything figured out. Then you can move back to LA and rent out this place."

"Thanks, Uncle Johnny." Lucien blushed slightly. "I'm sure that was all my boss's idea."

The older man shrugged. "He might have felt some pressure from a few of the board members, but it was mostly his plan."

Anakin's phone started to ring. "Excuse me." He stood up and went to his bedroom. "Prue?"

"Annie?" Prue's voice was agitated. "Both of them were at the Manor, but they'll check as soon as dinner's over. And Wyatt wants us to come over to the Manor to listen to the President's message."

"Oh?" Anakin smirked. "And exactly what gives him the authority to order us to do that?"

"Annie!" Prue's voice broke. "This has nothing to do with them babying you, okay? Wyatt just wants us all together to discuss things once it's over."

He rolled his eyes. "And what should I do if I already have plans?"

"You mean with Lucien?" Prue could not keep the annoyance out of her tone.

"Yes, Prue," he said firmly, "with Lucien."

Prue was silent except for her heavy breathing. "I'll tell Wyatt you couldn't come."

Anakin bit his lip. "No, don't bother. I'll come. We have to discuss some things."

"OOOO—K." Prue sounded nervous. "I'll meet you at your place in twenty minutes?"

He sighed. "Yeah." He put the phone down and exited the room.

"Is everything alright?" Lucien asked when he got back into the living room.

Anakin shook his head. "I have to… Did you hear the news?"

"About the President's message?" Uncle Johnny asked.

"Yeah." Anakin looked at Lucien. "My sister wants me to come watch it at her place. Her fiancé is a lawyer and has got some high connections on the Hill."

"So what's the problem?" Lucien asked.

"My Book, Luc: it's been tampered with." Anakin glanced at Johnny. "And I think it's just a warning."

Lucien nodded. "OK. Uncle Johnny, I think it's time to leave."

Anakin nodded. "Sorry, Johnny; I wish we could have spent more time talking."

"Don't worry about it." Johnny smiled. "It's getting late as it is."

He shook Johnny's hand. "I hope to see you again."

"Yes, that would be very nice." Johnny took Lucien's offered hand.

"Luc, when you get back – just be careful," Anakin warned.

"I'll call you when I reach my hotel room," Lucien promised, then flamed out.

"Whoever you are," Anakin whispered, "stay the hell away from him." He sat down and flipped on the TV, waiting for Prue to arrive.

"Mom! What the hell! That cost me half a month's salary." Chris was staring at the smoking remains of his cell phone.

Piper smirked. "Perhaps you shouldn't spend so much money on a phone. I survived on my secondhand RAZR until last year just fine."

"Or I should get a mother who can't cause things to spontaneously explode," Chris countered, orbing the melted remains into the trashcan. "Care to explain why you thought it would be a good idea to blow up my cell phone?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "Chris, you were going to phone work again. You are taking tonight off," Piper said in her matriarchal tone.

"But Mom..." Chris whined as he walked over to the house phone.

Piper gestured and a small explosion caused him to quickly pull his hand away from the phone. "No. It's not every night I get to have my whole family together. And I'm not letting magic or real life screw this up."

Wyatt then walked into the kitchen carrying dirty plates. "Did I interrupt something?'

"No," Chris grumbled. "Mom's just putting her foot down."

Wyatt looked at Piper who had returned to washing the dishes. "I see. Well, you'll be glad to know that Prue and Anakin orbed into the living room without ripping each others' heads off."

"Oh, great." Chris griped as he took the dishes from Wyatt. "I'll do the dishes, you pull them apart."

"Nope." Wyatt took the plates right back. "I think I've already pissed Anakin off enough today."

"Oh, and me orbing into his kitchen this morning unannounced made our youngest brother just jump for joy?" Chris grabbed the plates again. "Mine tops yours."

"Mom! Tell Chris—"

Piper stopped him. "Wyatt, you wash the dishes. Christopher, tell your sister and brother I want to see them in the sunroom now." Piper undid her apron and handed it to a stunned Wyatt. "Don't get grease on that shirt, Wyatt; your dad bought that for your first day at college."

Piper walked out of the kitchen and strolled comfortably into the sunroom. Sarah was watching Zach play at the old white wicker table where Wyatt had once played.

Sarah looked up. "Piper? Is everything alright?"

Piper nodded and smiled at her daughter-in-law. "Yeah, everything is fine, Sarah." The oldest Charmed One bent down to be eye level with Zach. "How's Zachy doing? Does he want some ice-cream?"

Zach's head whipped around. "Ice-cream!"

Piper smiled. "Yes, Grandpa Leo bought some especially for his favorite grandson."

"Mommy!" Zach scrambled to his feet. "Did you hear that, mommy? Grandpa buys me ice cream."

Sarah nodded along, feigning surprise. "So I heard. Why don't we go find Grandpa?" Sarah held out her hand. "Piper? Are you going to join us?"

"Not yet, sweetie." Piper turned around and looked sternly at the two guilty young witches. "I've got to talk to Prue and Anakin first."

Sarah greeted them as she passed and Zach gave Prue's leg a hug and Anakin a high-five. "Good luck," Sarah whispered.

Prue and Anakin walked to their mother, both feeling like they were walking up to the executioner. Piper pointed to the two chairs and the two witches sat down without a sound. Piper looked at them, thinking. Finally, she sat down across from them. "Who's going to start first?"

"Mom," Prue started, knowing Anakin would never break, "he's seeing Lucien again."

Anakin glowered at Prue but kept quiet. Piper noticed the look and frowned. "Got anything to add?"

He shook his head. "She's telling the truth."

"So where's the problem?" Piper asked, acting dumb to keep the peace.

"Mom, please." Prue pulled at her hair. "You remember what happened last time. You still have nightmares about it."

"Anakin's two years older, Prue," Piper said reasonably. "I trust he can handle things better this time."

"I don't believe it!" Prue stood up. "This kid nearly killed Anakin and you're going to stand there and welcome him back into the family! For god's sake you can't be that naïve."

Piper looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You finished?"

"Yes, ma'am." Prue sat down, her head hung in shame.

Piper turned to look at Anakin. "So you're seeing Lucien. Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Don't play devil's advocate, Mom," Anakin dodged. "You're not Aunt Paige."

"Oh?" Piper smirked. "I can get Aunt Paige in here then, or Uncle Henry."

"No, that's OK." Anakin let out a deep breath. "I'm not going out with Lucien. But I am going to be his friend, just like I've been trying to do since we broke up. Nothing you or anyone else says can change my mind. We're friends, and he needs our help."

Piper nodded. "OK, but if you decide to take things any further than just friendship, we are going to have another talk."

"Mom..." He started, but Piper's look shut his mouth.

"Now look, both of you," Piper spoke softly. "Today has been grating on everyone. So I'd like tonight to be peaceful. None of the infighting, got it? We may be in for another battle, and we can't afford to be fighting each other. If that doesn't convince you, then play nice for your mother's sake." Piper got up. "Is there anything else?"

Anakin and Prue looked at each other. Piper cocked her head to one side. "What is it, you two?"

Prue gulped and cleared her throat. "Chris and Wyatt didn't say anything?"

"No." Piper raised her eyebrow. "They've not said anything."

"Well, Mom..." Anakin started.

"You see..." Prue also tried, but trailed off.

Piper looked from one to the other. "Spill it!"

"My Book's been wiped clean." Anakin whispered.

"Mine, too," Prue added quickly.

Piper gripped her chest. "What! And you're bickering about Lucien?"

"Mom," Prue said calmly, "don't freak out."

"Don't freak out?" Piper turned around. "Sweetie, the Book has only been wiped twice before. Once, we did it, and the two warlocks who manipulated us into it nearly killed us. The other time was Abraxas, and you've seen what he can do."

"We still all have our powers," Anakin whispered. "So that means the original hasn't been hit yet."

"Yeah, and now that we know, we can stop it."

"Honey, I've been at this a bit longer than you have." Piper took a calming breath. "This isn't something you just stop. The Book is protected by more than just enchantments. It has powers of its own; powers that are entwined with yours. If this demon can strip the Book of its powers, then he can do the same to you."

"I know that." Prue drummed her finger on her chin. "But they haven't gotten to the Book yet, just the replicas."

"Those Books are as good as the original," Piper explained. "Whatever blessings that could not be copied were replaced by the blessings of the Charmed Ones. And I'm pretty sure that Charmed magic beats Melinda's; she said it herself."

"And I enhanced the protection with one of the spells the other Anakin wrote in the Book," Anakin said in an undertone. "But this demon just wiped all of that away as if it were nothing. I couldn't even sense magic, just the presence of evil, and somehow I think that's because he wants me to sense it."

Prue started to pace. "Why go after the Books and then expose yourself? I mean, what's the point?"

"To show us how easily they could get to any one of us," he stated, looking darkly out the window. "Or to warn us to stay the hell out of their way."

"Out of their way?" Prue frowned. "How are we going to stay out of the way if we don't know what to stay away from?"

"Lucien," Anakin muttered. "They're after Lucien."

"Lucien?" she crooned. "See, I told you—"

'Don't," Anakin snapped, his eyes flashing. "I'm warning you."

Piper cleared her throat. "Perhaps you should go make sure your brothers haven't destroyed my kitchen, Prue." When Prue did not move, Piper sighed. "Please," the older witch said in a tone that left no room to argue.

Anakin watched Prue huff and walk out of the sunroom. He drew in a deep breath and turned to look at his mother. "Mom..."

"I don't want to hear excuses, Anakin." Piper scooted her chair closer to him. "I've been the matriarch of the most powerful family of witches for nearly twenty-one years now. Even if I was not your mother, I deserve more than your excuses. This concerns more than just your love life."

"I know." Anakin sighed, wishing he could look away, but he dared not break eye contact. "It's just – difficult. This isn't just my story: it's Lucien's, as well."

"I understand, Annie." Piper softened her tone. "But this is too important for you to keep to yourself."

"What if I don't want you to get hurt?" he asked. "What if—"

"No what ifs." Piper shook her head slightly. "This demon is able to break through wards not even the Source could. We need to be prepared."

"What about the rest of them?" Anakin waved toward where the rest of the family was gathered. "Shouldn't they hear this?"

"Maybe," Piper replied keeping her voice soft, "but I certainly need to know. And I know you'll hide details if your brothers or sister were in this room."

Anakin ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Well, you know that I was having headaches and blackouts a while back."

"Yes."

"During those – er – episodes, I was having visions," he muttered, looking at the spot of floor between his feet.

"Visions?" Piper asked. "Like premonitions?"

"No, no. These were mental glimpses of what was going on in the present. It was kind of like astral projection, but I never became corporeal."

"OK," Piper said, nodding along. "Where were you projecting to?"

"I was never quite sure," he whispered. "I couldn't control it. But wherever I went, I was always following one person." Anakin stopped.

"Who, Anakin?" She took his shaking hands in hers. "Who did you see?"

"Jonathan," he whispered. "I saw Jonathan."

Piper froze. "Are..." She swallowed. "Are you sure, sweetie?"

"Yes." Anakin nodded. "I wasn't at first. But then Lucien bumped into me at a club and it all clicked. I don't think it was supposed to." He was mumbling to himself now. "I've never done astral projection before so this must have been a spell – someone must have done something to me."

Piper shook him gently. "Sweetie, what are you talking about?"

Anakin looked up. "They were using me to track Jonathan."

"Who was, Annie?" Piper sounded worried.

He shrugged. "The same demons who wiped the Books. That's why it was so painful. I'm not supposed to have astral projection powers."

"OK." Piper nodded. "So whoever is wiping the Books is after a demon you vanquished seven years ago. The same demon who killed this entire family once before."

"Hellequin switched bodies with him, Mom." He looked past Piper. "And now Jonathan is in trouble because these demons are after him."

"And you're going to stop them?" Her voice had a thick layer of fear in it,

"Lucien is going to do it without my help." Anakin looked imploringly at his mother. "I can't let him do that. It'd be suicide."

"But is it really worth saving Jonathan?" she asked. "I mean that demon had a personal vendetta against you, sweetie. He murdered Billie."

"I know, Mom." Anakin returned to staring at the floor. "He did horrible things. But if we don't stop these demons, then I believe things are going to get a whole lot worse."

"Even worse than what happened under Jonathan?" Piper fidgeted.

"Much worse." He looked at his mother.

Piper nodded. "OK. Wyatt and Chris will go check their Books, and I'll phone Phoebe and Paige to ask them to get their kids to do the same. Then we are going to see what the President has to say."

"And then?" Anakin ran his fingers down the arm of his chair, avoiding his mother's gaze.

Piper caught his hand and waited until he looked her in the eyes. "And then we start researching possible demons."

Anakin nodded. "OK."

"Good." Piper leaned back in her chair.

"So much for a quiet dinner with the family," Anakin joked.

Piper nodded. "Aw, well, one of these days I will have my normal life."

"Mom?" Anakin stood up. "Are you going to tell them about Jonathan?"

"No," Piper said after a moment's thought. "I think that is something that should stay between you and Lucien for the time being. All they need to know about is the Books and that some demon is plotting something very big."

"Mom?" Wyatt called, walking into the sunroom. He looked at Anakin. "Oh. Hey, Annie."

Anakin smiled. "What's up?"

Wyatt looked back at Piper. "You don't trust Chris and me in the kitchen?"

She smiled. "You may be able to wield Excalibur like a skilled knight of old, but you're worse than a blind three-year-old with a chef's knife."

"Ouch, Mom." Wyatt clutched his chest. "That hurts, it really does."

"Get over it you big baby." Anakin smirked. "Did you check your Book yet?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Not yet; we just finished cleaning the dishes. Chris and I were going to go before the address started."

"Good." Piper stood up and straightened her blouse. "I think you both should go do that."

"Right." Wyatt frowned. "Is everything alright?"

"Just go check," Piper stated. "We'll explain after you get back."

"I'm going to say hi to Dad," Anakin said, walking out of the sunroom.

Piper sighed. She looked around the room. It was in this room that her oldest sister had died. She and Leo had renewed their vows right where she was currently standing. Wyatt had said his first words standing at the wicker table at her knee. Before they had built onto the manor, Anakin had slept in this room.

She had learned to deal with the good and bad that stemmed from being a witch. But standing in this room, talking to Anakin, brought it all crashing down on her once again. Piper sighed and closed her eyes. Her life would never be normal, but she would not change a thing. In the end, the good far outweighed the bad. This would just be another demon they had to weather. Tomorrow would be a brighter day; another chance to have a demon-free life.

The black screen suddenly changed to the familiar view of the oval office. Behind the desk sat the President, looking weary and stern. "Good evening, my fellow Americans. Early this morning, I sat down with my Cabinet members to discuss a piece of legislation that both the House and Senate had been working on for the past year. Three days ago, your Congress passed the bill with an overwhelming majority. Two days ago, my Vice President returned the bill to my desk with a note saying he believes it to be an excellent way to handle the fallout from the events seven years ago. Twelve hours ago, I signed in a new law creating a new arm of the Federal government.

"This new department will be charged with investigating the events that occurred in California seven years ago. In order to fulfill this objective, I am giving the director's chair to General Owain Glyndwr…"

The speech went on for another half hour, but none of it was important. They had learned who their executioner was going to be, and it frightened Anakin. They moved to the dining room table once the broadcast was over. Everyone was lost in thought. Piper and Leo were holding hands and having a whispered conversation. Sarah stood to one side of her husband, clutching their two-year-old son close to her chest. Anakin's siblings were staring into space trying to process and come up with a plan. But they could not. Magic was to be used to protect the innocent, not themselves. They had a new enemy, but this enemy could not be vanquished.

"Your Books were wiped clean?" Anakin muttered.

Chris nodded. "Every page! And not a single inkling of who did it. It's like a ghost did it or something."

"Ghosts aren't capable of that type of magic," Prue whispered.

"I know that!" snapped Chris. "It's just a saying."

Piper looked away from Leo. "Are we just ignoring the Hunting Bill?"

The four young witches looked at each other and shrugged. Wyatt was the one who spoke for the group. "Can't really do anything about it. No spell in the Book to vanquish a FBI agent, Mom."

Piper nodded, her eyes filled with concern. "So what do we do, then?"

"Prepare for the worst," Chris whispered. "Set up rooms in Magic School for discovered witches."

Anakin nodded, but frowned. "Hiding out in Magic School isn't going to work for long, though."

Leo sighed. "Magic School isn't even big enough to sustain a large population of witches. We can provide sanctuary for maybe a couple dozen, but after that…" His voice trailed off.

"What if we don't hide?" Prue asked.

"Expose magic?" Wyatt rounded on his sister. "Are you crazy? You know what happened last time."

Prue nodded. "I know how Aunt Prue died, as well as everyone else, Wy. All I'm saying is magic is already exposed: Jonathan exposed it seven years ago. We just need to prove we're not like the demons."

"We'd be roasted before we even got a chance to change their minds." Chris reasoned. "They're too scared of magic to listen to us."

Sarah nodded. "Chris is right: exposing ourselves will only help them round us up." She looked down at Zach. "And I'm not going to let them anywhere near my baby."

Wyatt nodded, his eyes flashing. "If they come after Zach, to hell with the rules."

"So we fight?" Anakin voiced questioningly.

There were glances around the room. Chris nodded. "If it comes to that, yeah: we fight."

In the shadows of the unlit kitchen, eyes flashed in the darkness. Owain grinned triumphantly and flamed out. His plan had worked.


	7. Apologize

Apologize

"Aunt Phoebe, I _know_!" Anakin snapped over the phone.

Phoebe, his most mild-mannered aunt, snapped back in an equally angry tone, "Your mother freaked out when—"

Anakin huffed and abruptly ended the phone call. He knew he was going to pay dearly for his actions, but he could care less. Another demon had shimmered into the apartment while he was arguing with his aunt. The blond ducked the fireball and used his wireless phone to block an energy ball. The powerful witch flicked his wrists in the direction of the demon and blew up the sofa behind the ugly hawk-faced demon.

_Damn it_!

Anakin conjured up an athame and ducked behind the ruins of his living room table. Coming up around the other side, he chucked the dagger at the demon. He watched it sail through the air and suddenly the demon vanished. On the other side of the room stood Chris, clapping his hands.

"Well done, lil' bro," the brown-haired witch said with a smile.

Anakin looked around his destroyed apartment, ignoring his brother's praise. "You could have at least made the whole thing an illusion." He walked over the smoking remains of his telephone. "That cost me two hundred bucks."

Chris chuckled and waved his hand. The room turned into blue orbs which settled in various areas and disappeared, leaving behind a perfect apartment.

Anakin smirked despite his annoyance at the recent tactic his brothers had taken to keep him on edge. "I see you perfected your transmogrification power."

Chris nodded, looking around the fixed room. "Just sucks it has to happen with those blue orbs."

"Get over it; everyone already knows you're the product of a Charmed One and an Elder's indiscretion." Anakin replaced the wireless phone on its charger by the kitchen.

Chris shrugged and settled into a comfortable armchair. "If the Book had a description on that demon it would tell you that it was in the same league as Balthazar. And considering you vanquished it without the need of a potion, I'd say we've officially proven you're more powerful than our big brother."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "It was a dagger between the eyes; a mortal could vanquish the Source like that."

Chris frowned. "Could you just let me have the few moments of bliss?"

"No!" Anakin jokingly snapped. "This vying for who's the most powerful is between you and Wyatt. Leave me out of it." He handed Chris a beer and sat down on the sofa holding a bottle of water.

Chris raised an eyebrow. Anakin waved his hand. "Kyle left a few in the fridge for when he comes over with Prue."

"And I'm supposed to believe that," Chris stated sarcastically. "Come on, I was in college once."

"Believe whatever you want, but drink the beer. Mom'll freak if she sees alcohol in my apartment." Anakin sunk further into the couch. "God, between your 'practice session' and school, I'm beat. It'll be a nice break to have Mom here."

Chris's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "What makes you think we're going to stop when Mom gets here? This was her idea."

Anakin smirked. "Not the part I was talking about. I get the week off from school because of Thanksgiving."

"Right," Chris muttered and took a gulp of beer. "Are we having the family dinner at the Manor this year?"

Anakin shrugged. "I'd guess so. Mom's having me orb her back on Wednesday and 'requested', her word, that I stay the rest of the week there."

Chris straightened up, placing the beer on the coffee table in front of him. "And are you?"

Anakin grinned. "Have you met Mom? I've invited Lucien to join us."

This caused Chris's gaze to darken.

Anakin sighed. "I thought you had gotten over this! God, with the way you, Wyatt, and Prue act, you'd think I was friends with the Source."

"No, just his baby brother," Chris whispered heatedly.

Anakin glowered at the remark.

"You're the one who suspects that Jonathan is still alive."

"And I'm also the one who knows that he's an innocent, not the Source of All Evil," Anakin replied, crushing his empty bottle. "Mom's already said it'd be O.K, if Lucien joins us. And Chris, I _expect_ my family to treat him with respect."

Chris shrugged, knowing it was a pointless issue to argue about. "Whatever, it's your heart he'll break."

Anakin breathed out heavily. "I'll be sure the keep that in mind when I sleep with him."

Chris's eyes grew wide.

"But for the moment, I think I'm still safe from any heartbreak." His tone indicated the conversation was over.

Chris not wanting a fight stood up. "Wyatt'll be doing tomorrow's session. See you on Tuesday."

"Yeah, see ya." Anakin headed off to the kitchen.

Anakin knew he was being particularly sensitive on the Lucien issue, but he felt his siblings should also learn to mind their own business. They had the government on the magic hunt and a demon, who had wiped clean all but two Books of Shadows, to deal with, and yet they were obsessed with _Lucien_. It irked him. Yet he knew deep down they only had his best interests at heart. The blond exhaled noisily and checked the clock: two hours until he had to fetch his mother from the airport.

He picked up the phone and hit the redial button. "Hi, I would like to speak to Phoebe Halliwell—I'm her nephew." The tired witch hit the speaker button and set the phone on the coffee table.

"Annie?" Phoebe's voice was distant, but audible.

"Phoebe?" Anakin sat down. "Are you on speaker phone?"

"Yeah, busy writing this week's column. Need both hands."

He caught the soft but distinct noise of nails tapping keys on a keyboard.

"What's up?"

"Nothing." Anakin gave a sigh of relief; at least that had been an illusion. "It's just been a while since I've spoken to you."

He could picture Phoebe's face brighten with a smile. "How sweet! You know you call me more than my own daughter, Annie."

Anakin chuckled; he knew that was a lie. Payton may be a bit forgetful, but she would always phone her mother. "You're a terrible liar, Aunt Phoebe."

Phoebe laughed warmly. "Alright, fine—she calls me every day. But you do call me more than Wyatt or Chris."

Anakin nodded. "Yeah, well, they're losers."

"Oh?" Phoebe continued to type. "I just thought they were too busy talking to Piper."

Anakin gulped. So maybe not everything was part of the illusion. "Aunt Phoebe, are you trying to tell me something?"

Phoebe acted like she was caught off guard. "I don't know what you mean, Annie."

"I called her last week." Anakin jumped to the point. "It's not like that much changes in one week."

Phoebe was obviously building a case for her argument. The typing had stopped. "Annie," she started, but stopped suddenly. "Sweetie, she…"

Anakin waited a moment more after Phoebe fell silent. "I know that Mom likes to keep tabs on. I just need some time when I don't feel like I'm still a ten-year-old kid with mother hen standing two feet away. I'm not going to cut her out of my life, but I would like to actually have a life."

Phoebe sighed. "You're talking to someone who went through the whole rebellion-leaving-San-Francisco stage and let me tell you, it sucks."

Anakin laughed. "I know and believe me, I'm not going to follow in those footsteps. But I've grown up with my entire family having my back or usually fighting my fights for me. They decide who I can be friends with, who I can go out with…" Anakin trailed off and gathered himself back together. "I just don't need a brother or sister or mother phoning me every ten minutes to make sure I'm still alive. I've not gone off and done something stupid."

"I know." Phoebe started to type again. "But you are Piper's baby; their miracle baby."

"I thought that was Wyatt's title." he smirked.

She laughed. "Wyatt was a surprise, yes, but Anakin, you – you were a miracle."

He huffed. "Ok, but still: I'm not eighteen-months—I'm eighteen-years-old! I can drive, I can buy a house; I can be executed. I've been fighting demons long enough to know that running into the underworld is a bad idea. I have more protection wards around my apartment than Magic School. They don't have to be so – so…" he stopped.

"Oppressive?" Phoebe suggested.

"Kinda, yeah," he said guiltily. "I love them all to death, but I need some space."

"And it's OK to feel that way: it's natural." Phoebe shuffled some papers on her desk. "You just have to be a bit forgiving as your family adjusts. It's a big step to think of you as an adult. It scares them—_a lot_."

Anakin let out a deep breath. "How long until they get over that fear? Because I don't know how much I can handle. It's one thing for them to be freaking out about demons and the government coming after me. I can understand that, but this obsession with who I'm friends with, who I'm hanging out with…it's infuriating!"

"You're talking about Lucien," she stated.

He pursed his lips. "Among others, yeah."

He heard he take a deep breath.

"You do remember what happened last time?" she said softly.

He nodded. "I remember. I tried to off myself."

Phoebe's breath caught in her throat. "And you expect them to just allow you to make the same mistake again?"

Anakin eyes flashed and he balled his hands into fists. "It's not going to happen again."

"I know that," Phoebe said soothingly. "And they do, too. It's just a very big thing to bury under the rug."

"Ok, so should I just not see Lucien at all? Keep them all happy?" Anakin said through clenched teeth.

Phoebe was silent for a few moments. "Would that make you happy?"

Anakin, ready to chew Phoebe out, caught himself; that was not the answer he was expecting. "What?"

"Would that make _you_ happy?" she repeated.

Anakin shook his head. "No! I've been trying to rebuild this friendship since it ended."

"Then I think you need to do whatever makes you happy." Phoebe whispered in a calm voice. "That is all your family wants in the end and it's all that really matters. Just be safe and they'll come around, slowly."

"And what if I..." He paused, swallowing with a suddenly parched throat. "What if I want to – to make it something more?"

The other side of the line went silent; he could not even hear Phoebe breathing. "Um— that's something you'll have to decide when the time comes."

Anakin nodded in understanding. Phoebe was fine with him being friends with Lucien, as was his mother, but they still were hesitant to give their consent on anything more. He sighed in disappointment, but also with relief. "Thanks, Aunt Phoebe. I'll see you at Thanksgiving."

"Bye, Annie." Phoebe hung up the phone.

Anakin stood up. That was another thing that hung over his head. Damien was a great friend and extremely attractive, but the more he got to know the young man, the more he knew Damien was not going to be anything more than a friend.

Lucien, on the other hand, was constantly on his mind. The blond had sworn to take things slow: he wanted a friendship. But then he would go to a club, or just hangout with friends at the movies and it felt like everyone else in the world was in a relationship. And the feeling sucked—hard.

"So that passed thirty minutes," he muttered to himself.

The drive to the airport would take an hour with traffic, which meant he had another half an hour to waste. He walked to his bedroom and opened up the closet containing the Book of Shadows. The pages were yellowing at a rapid rate, and the cover was decaying daily. Both Wyatt and Chris had told him on separate occasions to throw the book away. And looking at it now, he saw that it was pretty much a useless piece of junk. But a part of him felt that the book deserved more than that.

He opened up the cover and ran his hand over the page that had contained the spell which had granted his mother, Phoebe, and Prue their powers. The incantation was written by Melinda Warren, the founder of the Halliwell line. The paper was soft, but suddenly there was sharp pain. Anakin pulled his hand away from the page and looked at it. A small red dot grew on the tip of his finger. He frowned, and bent closer and examined the page. The culprit was a tiny shard of glass.

"That's weird," Anakin whispered as he picked up the small shard. "What's that doing there?"

The only way a piece of glass got into the Book was if someone had broken glass on it. He was certain that he had never had any piece of glass anywhere near the Book. But then how? Slowly the reason came to him and his eyes lit up. A potion!

"That's it!" He jumped up. "That's how the demon did it."

Before he could do anything else with this new piece of evidence his phone started ringing.

"Hello?" He answered, excited.

"Annie, it's Mom." She sounded exhausted and frustrated.

"Hi, Mom." He smiled. "What's up?"

"Could you pick me up from New York? We're being laid over: heavy winds," she almost growled.

"Oh." He set the piece of glass on the counter. "Sure. Is there anywhere nearby I can orb to?"

"Umm..." She must have been looking around. "There's an out-of-order restroom across the terminal."

"Alright, be there in a sec."

"Annie!" she half-yelled.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful," she said in a motherly fashion.

"Always."

He smiled and hung up. Glancing down at the piece of glass he grabbed a scrap piece of paper. After scrawling 'potions' on the paper, he orbed out of his apartment to pick up his mother.

Owain strode across the small office assigned to him on the army base. _Quaint, orderly, but small_. He shook his head thoughtfully and stepped out of the office. At the desk to the side of his door sat a young woman in an army uniform. She looked up smiled and went back to typing on her computer. Owain smirked and continued on his way out. The demon stepped out of the building housing the Magical Enforcement Department and looked over the army base.

"And to think with a snap of a finger you could have them all slit their own throats," Miley whispered, materializing out of thin air.

Owain made no move to acknowledge her arrival.

"I hope you informed Beast of your departure."

"Relax, old man," she said silkily, "my partner is well aware of the change in plans."

He sighed, silencing the craving to vanquish the incompetent lawyer. With a motion of his hand he walked forward at a brisk pace, forcing her to jog in high heels. "I hope there is a reason for your lack of obedience, seductress."

Miley bristled at the title, and he smirked. "I have come to inform you of a slight problem."

Owain stopped and turned to face the young woman. "A problem?" His voice barely carried in the light breeze. They were too close to success for there to be a problem.

"Yes, Owain." she took a step closer, dropping her voice to a soft whisper. "A problem."

His eyes flashed.

"Well, go on, then."

Her lips twitched in triumph.

He glowered. "Don't push me, demon."

Miley nodded. "Would not dream of it, milord. Your distraction technique has proven ineffective. Anakin has all but rejected me and Beast is not having any more luck than I would have."

"Oh, that's all." He breathed a mental sigh of relief.

"That's all! If they—" she hissed, composed herself and tried again. "If those brats get together, Owain, we're all doomed."

He chuckled. "Anakin and Lucien are hardly a concern, underling. The distraction may not have lasted as long as I wanted it to, but it matters very little. Hellequin is close; I can almost smell him."

"Hellequin will be difficult to sway if we do not have his brother." Miley's voice was laced with acid. "And—"

"Enough." he held up his hand. "The intricacies of my plan are not for you to know, seductress. Just do as you are told and you will be rewarded." He started to walk away.

Miley reached out and grabbed his shoulder, her hand morphing into talons. Owain turned around and looked dismissively at the deadly set of claws. His eyes flashed pure hatred and she dropped to the floor, clutching at her temples. He bent down and grabbed her roughly by the hair.

"Don't tempt me, whore. I've been itching to add your pretty little crossbow to my collection." He released her and stood up, brushing off his suit. "Anakin. Follow him. And do not break from routine."

He continued to stroll down the path, assured that she had learned her place in the scheme of things. He had the most powerful mortal eating out of the palm of his hand and now had the manpower to storm the Underworld without demonic assistance. Once he had Hellequin at his side once more, the demons would be utterly useless to him. Only then would she realize just how right she was in believing he was going to betray them. The demon smiled and continued his stride around the army base, _his_ army base.

Anakin walked into his living room carrying a tray laden with food and a jug of ice-cold iced tea. He set the tray on the coffee table and took a seat next to Kyle. The blond-haired lawyer cocked one eyebrow at his fiancé and future mother-in-law.

"Are they always this oblivious to the men in the family?" Kyle whispered jokingly.

Anakin smirked. "I'd say that's true, but then I'd have to lump Wyatt in with the women, and that would be an insult to women across the world."

Kyle laughed and picked up his bottle of beer. "Well, I see your point."

"Anakin, you really shouldn't be so mean to your older brother," Piper admonished without looking over, still absorbed in the conversation with Prue.

Anakin's cheeks reddened slightly. "So, are you two going to let us into the conversation or should we leave and give you some privacy?"

Prue and Piper turned to face the two men with guilty smiles on their faces.

"Sorry, sweetie; your sister was just telling me about her ideas for the new season of her show." Piper reached over and refilled her empty glass of iced tea. "But we can talk about your day if you want."

Anakin groaned. "Can't we talk about the weather instead?"

Kyle smirked. "Suck it up, dude. Mothers never let up on that stuff."

Anakin rubbed his temples. "Well, you know how my day's been, Mom. I picked you up from the airport, and then I went to the store to buy food for this get-together. And then Prue and Kyle arrived, and I've been playing host ever since."

"Brief, succinct, and to the point," Prue muttered. "Whoever said you weren't your dad's son..."

"You!" Anakin shot back.

Prue smiled. "And aside for the brief exception, I stand by my ruling."

Kyle frowned. "Inside joke?" He looked at Piper for help.

Piper nodded. "Prue refuses to believe that she and Anakin have the same father as Wyatt and Chris. Something about Wyatt and Chris being slobs or something."

"Exactly," Prue nodded. "I have to concede on the whole them being my mother's children because they're Charmed, but that's only a technicality."

Anakin agreed, taking a sip of his drink. "It's a pretty big technicality, though. You've got to admit that."

Prue sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, but you could argue they were Paige's kids."

"And you would have your head blown off," Anakin quipped. "You know Aunt Paige is very sensitive about Henry being the only father of her kids. And with Wyatt's eye color…" He shook his head, leaving the rest unsaid.

Piper leaned across the table. "It's an ongoing thing for them."

"Oh," Kyle mouthed, laughing at the brother-sister interaction.

"Well!" Prue stood up after another ten minutes. "This has been a blast, but I've got a show to do tomorrow, and I do need my beauty sleep." She offered her hand to Kyle. "Honey?"

"Right." Kyle stood up. Piper rose from her seat. "It's been a pleasure seeing you again, Piper." He hugged the Halliwell matriarch and then looked at Anakin. "Thanks for having us, Annie."

"Anytime, Kyle." Anakin took the offered hand and shook it. "Basketball Monday?"

Kyle nodded. "I've already roped in two of my colleagues at work to join my team."

"Wyatt and Chris will be thrilled to hear," Anakin stated.

Prue hugged her mother good-bye. "We'll see you before Thanksgiving, Mom."

Piper nodded. "Are you sure you have to go to his parents'?"

"Yes, Mom." Prue smiled. "Especially if you want us to be there for Christmas."

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "You'd miss the famous Halliwell family Christmas bake-off? Payton would be devastated."

Prue shrugged. "She'd just have to rejoin her mother's team."

"So then Wyatt and Chris won't be last for the tenth year in the row," Anakin mused, earning himself a soft smack on the back of the head from his mother. "Ow!" he whined, rubbing his head.

"Drive carefully, sweetheart," Piper called as Prue and Kyle shut the apartment door. Then she turned around and started to clean up.

"Mom!" Anakin jumped in front of her and guided her to a chair. "Relax, OK? I can handle a couple of plates and glasses."

Piper resisted the urge to argue and instead patted the seat next to her. "If I have to sit then so does my baby."

Anakin groaned, but nevertheless sat down. "Please, Mom. I'm eighteen."

"And you're still my baby," Piper said in a tone that left no room for argument, "no matter how old you get."

"Fine," Anakin said breathlessly and sunk into his seat. "Do you have any ideas on how to identify the potion?"

Piper shook her head. "Not from such a small sample, but your dad will look into it at Magic School tomorrow."

The mother and son fell silent, staring into nothingness. And for the first time since moving out of the Manor, Anakin felt safe. His talk about wanting a life separate from his family made perfect sense: Phoebe had said it was natural. But here in this moment, nothing could have been further from the truth. His mother was one of the most important persons in his life, and he would do anything not to lose her.

"So," Piper started, breaking the silence, "will I get to meet this Damien?" She asked in a hinting tone.

He shrugged. "He's just a friend, Mom."

"I know, but I'd still like to meet the young man who's been sleeping on my son's sofa." Piper stood up.

"Mom," Anakin started, and then closed his mouth and shook his head. "Never mind."

Piper frowned, looking questioningly at her youngest child. "What's bothering you, Annie?"

Anakin fidgeted in his seat; his eyes darted around the room, refusing to settle on Piper. His heart hammered in his chest, and his palms were clammy. "Wh—no." He shook his head. "It's nothing."

Anakin stood up and quickly walked past his mother. The young witch picked up the tray of dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen. Piper stood still for a moment before following. In silence, Anakin turned on the tap and began scrubbing a plate. He felt his mother's gentle fingers grab onto his hand. He stopped scrubbing, but refused to look away from the dishes.

"They need to be cleaned," he murmured. "And the dishwasher just doesn't do a good enough job."

"I know, sweetie," Piper whispered, "but if you kept that up, you'd hurt yourself."

"I know," he whispered, blinking back tears in frustration. "That's the point."

Piper's grip on his hand grew tighter, and she stopped breathing. Slowly, she left out a long puff through her nose. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked gently, softly, but there was a hint of determination.

"Do you remember my sixteenth birthday party?" he asked, avoiding the question.

"Yes. We went to Vegas to see that show. You and Lucien then went off and visited his uncle in Washington for a week," Piper answered quickly. "Why?"

"We met his mom," Anakin said in an undertone. He turned around and wiped away a tear.

"Sweetie, what's really wrong?" Piper's face was white with fear. Her lips were pursed in concern.

Anakin shook his head. "I'm dealing with it, Mom."

"Clearly you're not," Piper snapped, unable to keep her cool.

"It's nothing…"

"No! Anakin..." Piper swallowed. "I know you, and this is not nothing. So tell me, I'm your mother—you can trust me."

He laughed. "Do you really think that's what's stopping me, Mom? Trust?" He walked out the kitchen, went over to a cupboard and pulled out a shoebox. He removed the lid and revealed a collection of multicolored potions. He pulled out half a dozen vials, placing them on the counter, and finally grabbed a crumpled piece of paper. "This, Mom, is my suicide note."

Piper took the crumbled ball gingerly, looking fearfully into her youngest child's eyes.

"Go on. Read it."

Piper carefully pulled the ball apart and smoothed out the rumpled edges. She cleared her throat. "_Mom, it hurts. All the time, it never ends. The flashes. The fears. At night I barely sleep. His golden eyes haunt my dreams, pleading. During the day I used to rely on Lucien: he knew. Now – now…_" Piper stopped, blinking back tears. "Sweetie," she said, sniffling.

Anakin had sunk to the floor with his knees pulled up under his chin. He stared at an old wine stain in the carpet. "They're back, Mom. Just echoes, nothing vivid. But..." He stopped, unable to continue. "I relive your death over, and over, and over again. I see Wyatt and Chris – I see myself. How could I? They're my brothers!"

"I know, sweetie." Piper dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around Anakin's shaking shoulders. "I know."

Anakin blew his nose in a conjured tissue. "He said these memories would make me stronger; make me realize what I had to do." Piper rubbed his back lovingly. "He carried on fighting when he was the only one left…I'm not him."

"I know,." Piper bit her lip to stop the sobs. "No one's expecting you to be."

"He did." Anakin sniffed, anger in his voice. "He wanted me to be better than him."

"And you are," Piper whispered. "You saved this family. You have a nephew that he never even knew. He's proud of you; we all are."

"It sucks." Anakin let out a long, calming breath; the sobs subsided. "He was here for less than a year, and I've lived the rest of my life in his shadow. Every compliment, every smile – I've always had to remind myself that it's me you're talking, not him."

"Oh, Annie." Piper hugged him closer. "You don't ever have to worry about that. He was part of a different timeline. You are and always have been my Anakin, my little golden warrior."

Anakin smiled despite himself. "That Halloween costume sucked, Mom." He sniffed.

"Blame your brother," Piper quipped, smiling between sniffles.

"Do you ever think about him?" he asked.

Piper nodded. "Every day. I thank God that he came back and kept my family together."

Anakin nodded in understanding. "I miss him."

"We all do, sweetie." Piper ran her fingers through Anakin's hair. She murmured encouraging words as they sat in the passage. Anakin slowly stirred from his thoughts. "What's wrong?"

Anakin was silent; he knew he could not avoid the subject for forever. "What if my moving out of the Manor was a mistake?"

This caught Piper completely off guard. "Where's this coming from?"

He shrugged, his red eyes looking into his mother's calm hazel eyes. "It's just – everything started going wrong when I moved here. I know my brothers and I aren't the next Power of Three, but we're still stronger together."

"Chris went off to Los Angles for his undergraduate degree," Piper reasoned. She brushed a stray hair out of her face. "And nothing happened then."

"I know, but L.A. and Baltimore are hardly comparable." Anakin hugged his knees and rested his chin on them. "What if I went too far? What if I weakened us? Grams always said that Halliwells belonged in the Manor."

"Grams also believed that males were not to be trusted with powers," Piper rebutted. She placed a hand on Anakin's cheek. "She's been wrong before."

Anakin smiled. "But what if..." He trailed off. "I don't want to go through what you had to go through with Aunt Prue. I've seen them die; I don't want to live it." Anakin's eyes hardened. "Maybe I should move back. P3 could always use another manager."

"No," Piper said firmly. She looked directly into his eyes. "Don't let magic control your life. If you ever wanted to move back, your room is exactly the same and available. But it must be because you want to, not because of magic." Piper softened her tone and her gaze became distant. "We all gave up so much to ensure that you guys would have a brighter future. And I knew we'd never keep you out of magic: it's part of who you all are. But I refuse to let it dominate your lives. I saw what it did to Christopher, and I promised him I would not let any of my children make the same mistakes."

Anakin knew instantly she was talking about the Chris from the future, the one who saved Wyatt from Gideon's misguided actions. He heard Wyatt talk about Chris, and Chris occasionally had glimpses into the original future. All of them said Chris loved his family, and that was the end of the story. This was the first he had heard of anything halfway negative about the original Halliwell future boy.

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"Chris." Piper adjusted herself; she was not as young as she used to be. "Well, he was obsessed with magic. He always had another demon to vanquish. I don't think anyone has read over the Book so many times, and considering how long I've been at this, that is saying something. But magic did not help him get what he wanted. It..." Piper wiped away a tear. "It cost him our trust. We treated him like crap. My own son! I thought the worst of him." Piper's lips trembled at the remembrance of some of her worst memories.

"Eventually Phoebe figured him out, and once I was pregnant with our Chris, I was allowed to know that the neurotic whitelighter from the future was my child. It took him a long time to come out of the shell he had built around himself. But when he did – he was a Halliwell. And it was his love for this family – his love for his brother that allowed him to save Wyatt. Not magic. Magic had failed him; it almost failed us. No amount of magic could have warned us that an Elder would be the cause of Wyatt's destruction."

Piper finally looked back at Anakin. "Now, I'm not saying that trusting in magic was a bad thing. And I'm not sure if he had told us the truth from the beginning if it would have really changed anything. But I promised him when I heard about his passing that I would not allow him to become so involved in magic that he would not have a life. And now the man who did not even have a high school degree is going to be a doctor, following in his father's footsteps. So, you can make whatever decision you want, Annie, but make sure it is what you want, and not what you feel obliged to do."

"I want to help Luc, Mom, but every time we come close to finding Jonathan I clam up. He's a murderer, Mom!" Anakin felt helpless. "How can I help someone who tried to kill my family?"

Piper shrugged. "I don't know, Annie. But I will tell you this: I trust you completely."

"Oh, great!" Anakin threw his head back. "Like I don't have enough pressure on me."

Piper laughed and patted him on the back. "When the time comes, you'll see."

"See what?" Anakin asked, looking at his mother with a frown.

She smiled at the look of confusion on Anakin's face. "That you will do the right thing." She stood up and groaned at her creaking bones. "Now, those dishes aren't going to clean themselves, you know."

He grinned, picking up his suicide note. "I'll help you in just a second." Piper nodded and headed off to the kitchen.

Anakin looked down at the note and balled it back up into a crumpled mess. "I don't want you haunting me any longer." He conjured up a lighter and set the piece of paper alight. He watched it turn to ash and float off down the passageway. The blond packed up the remaining items of the shoebox and placed it back underneath the extra towels. Then he headed down the passage to help his mom clean up with a smile on his face.

Lucien stared down at the last picture he had of his three uncles together. One of them had died barely a month after the photo was taken from cancer. Yet here in this picture, he was smiling and full of joy. Uncle Johnny stared out at him with a mischievous smile and sparkling eyes; the same eyes as Jonathan. Lucien had only seen Jonathan's eyes in their natural state a few times, but the last time still haunted him. Those were the eyes that pleaded with the elemental to vanquish him.

"Do you see your uncles often?" Piper asked, coming in to the living room from the kitchen.

Anakin and Piper had come over to visit before Anakin had his basketball game with Kyle. The house was small, with a neat and tidy garden in the front and a small pool in the back. It had come pre-furnished with wooden floors in all the common areas aside from the bathrooms and kitchen, which were tile. The two bedrooms were carpeted, but Uncle Johnny had already called in a guy to have the carpet replaced with wood. The living room doubled as a dining room and so in the corner sat a round, black oak table with four oak chairs around it. Lucien sat on a white leather sofa and Piper occupied one of the accompanying loveseats. The other loveseat was where Anakin had been sitting until he had left the room abruptly.

"It depends," Lucien answered. "I've been constantly on the move, so it been difficult to see them. But they keep in touch. And now, Uncle Johnny bought me this house; I think he's hoping I'll settle down."

"Will you?" Piper asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"Settle down?" Lucien asked. "Never really thought I'd end up living on the East Coast, but I don't see myself moving any time soon."

"Oh, not even if it was back to San Francisco?" Piper leaned back in her chair.

Lucien shrugged. "Maybe. At the moment there's really nothing in San Fran for me."

Piper raised an eyebrow dangerously. "And there's something here?"

"Perhaps." Lucien felt like he was being interrogated. _Where is Anakin_? "What about you, Piper? Ever think of moving?"

She nodded. "Back when I was a newlywed, but it wasn't in the stars."

"Do you ever regret staying in the Manor?" Lucien asked quickly, keeping the pressure off him.

Piper thought for a moment. "At the time I did, a few times in fact, but now, looking back – no. The Manor has so many happy memories. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else."

"Must be nice," Lucien muttered.

"Well, maybe this lovely house will become that for you one day," Piper said with a smile.

Lucien scratched his head, playing with a curl of hair. "You know, I never meant to hurt Annie, right?"

Piper narrowed her eyes and scrutinized him. "I _know_ Anakin believes that. And he never expounded on the details of the breakup."

"Fair enough." Lucien suddenly felt very venerable. "But I didn't want to hurt him. He meant the world to me."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Jonathan," Lucien muttered looking at the floor. He was not proud of how he'd handled things with Anakin. "I felt his presence, and I had to find him."

"So you broke Anakin's heart because of your brother, who held you prisoner for three years? A brother who everyone believed was vanquished," Piper surmised coldly.

"Yes." Lucien sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Will you do that again?" she asked icily.

Lucien looked up from the ground. "What?"

"Will you vanish out of Anakin's life again?" Piper repeated, staring at Lucien with accusing eyes.

"I—er," Lucien stuttered. "I – no?"

She smirked. "Are you asking or telling?"

"Piper." Lucien dropped his gaze. "I'm – we're – it's not—"

"It's not that difficult of a question," said Piper slowly. "Will you run away again once Jonathan has been saved from whatever demon is after him?"

"I don't plan to," whispered the elemental. "But…"

"But?" Piper's eyes flashed dangerously. "Look, Lucien. You're a great kid; I like you. So I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. But if you hurt Anakin again..." She left the threat unsaid.

Lucien gulped. There was a reason every demon trembled when they were caught in Piper Halliwell's gaze. "I – I – I—"

She smiled. "Relax, kid. I'm just letting you know how much Annie means to me. He's insistent about having you as a friend, and I can't blame him. You are a wonderful person."

"So this is your way of giving me your blessing?" Lucien asked, still looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Piper laughed. "My 'blessing' counts for very little, Lucien. Anakin does what he wants. This is my way of telling you that you don't have to worry about me blowing you up when you come over to the Manor."

"Oh." Lucien breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I think."

Piper nodded. "You're welcome. But a friendly heads-up?" Lucien perked up. "His siblings are going to be more difficult to get around, especially Prue."

"Any idea how I can get around to them?" Lucien asked as Anakin came back into the room.

Anakin looked at Lucien with an arched eyebrow. "Who are you trying to bed?"

"Who was on the phone?" Piper asked, diverting attention away from Lucien.

Anakin studied Lucien's reddening face for a few more moments before answering his mother. "Prue. She says that Kyle got off work early and was wondering if we could start the match early. Then maybe we could get something to eat." Anakin took a seat. "I told them it'd be O.K. with me if it was alright with you and Lucien."

Lucien stood up. "I wouldn't want to keep you away from your family."

"Not so quick there, mister." Piper smirked. "I know Wyatt won't be able to make it until three, so Anakin's team is down one man."

Anakin looked over at his mother. "I'm sure Lucien is too—"

"No," Piper cut him off. "I think it would be a good chance for him to make up with Chris and Prue. That is, if he wants to." She turned her gaze onto Lucien.

Anakin jumped to his friend's defense. "It's completely up to you." He glared at his mother. "We can make it a two-on-two game, or Prue can join in."

Lucien ummed and ahhed for a few moments. "I guess it can't hurt."

Anakin eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Piper clapped her hands together and stood up. "Bathroom?"

"Down the hall to your right," Lucien answered monotonously.

Anakin watched his mother walk down the hall. "Are you insane?"

"What?" Lucien asked, not quite looking at Anakin.

"My sister is going to have a fit."

"Oh, right. Prue's going to be there..." Lucien shoved his hands into his pockets. "'S not like I could avoid her forever."

"No, but doesn't have to be today." Anakin glanced down the hallway. "You can back out. I'll take care of my mom."

Lucien frowned. "Annie, I'm not backing out. I said I'd go. I'm going."

"What the hell did my mom say to you?" Anakin lowered his voice.

"Nothing. We talked about my uncles and what my plans were. It was civil."

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "Keep your secrets." He flipped open his phone. "But I'm bringing backup."

Piper suddenly reappeared in the living room. "Ready?"

Anakin held up one finger, tapping his toes impatiently. Piper cocked an eyebrow.

"Reinforcements." Lucien answered with a shrug.

"Ser? Can you meet us at the park?" Anakin nibbled on his lip. "Right. Sorry. But it's an emergency. Prue's meeting Luc." The last part was said in a tone used during a funeral.

"Great. Thanks a bunch." Anakin hung up the phone. "Let's go."

Anakin pulled into the parking spot next to Prue's Mercedes. He was tense and jumpy. He constantly shot glances over at Lucien. Conversation had been nonexistent the whole trip to the park.

"It's not too late, Luc," Anakin said, turning off the engine.

Lucien glanced over at the basketball courts. Kyle and Chris were fooling around. Prue sat on the side laughing. He swallowed. "No. I'll be fine."

"Is that Serena's car?" Piper asked from the backseat.

Anakin turned around and saw the black Lexus pull into the parking lot. "Probably. Her stepfather owns the hotel across the river."

"I'll meet you guys at the court." Piper opened her door and stepped out of the car.

Anakin took a deep breath. "You are crazy, Luc."

"Don't I know it." Lucien smiled and opened his door.

"LUC!" Serena yelled, jumping out of her car. "How the bloody hell are you, pumpkin?"

Anakin laughed.

"Damn it, Ser, don't call me that," Lucien choked out as Serena strangled him with a hug.

Anakin climbed out of the car. "Nice to see you, Ser."

Serena stepped back from Lucien. "Yeah, hey, Annie." She turned back to Lucien. "When are you going to invite me over to your place? You've been here almost three months and the only time I see you is the occasional bumping into each other at the grocery store."

Lucien had the foresight to look sheepish. "Sorry. It's been hectic."

"So I've heard. You and Anakin talking. Books being wiped clean. Demons coming back to life. A modern day witch hunt." Serena smiled brightly. "And now you want to start World War III in the middle of a public park."

"Like I said..." Lucien glanced over at the basketball courts. "It's been hectic."

Serena narrowed her eyes. "And you're just letting him walking into this death trap?" She rounded on Anakin.

"Hey!" Anakin crossed his arms over his chest. "This is not my choice. I think my mom cooked this up."

"Piper? Why would Piper want Lucien dead?"

Lucien jumped in. "Stop being dramatic, Ser. Prue hates my guts. Fine. But that isn't going to change if I keep in the shadows."

"No, but you could save yourself a whole lot of trouble by staying out of Anakin's life," Serena said in all seriousness.

"Not you, too!" Anakin threw his hands up. "I would think at least my best friend would be on my side in this."

"What?" Serena shifted her gaze onto Anakin. "Oh." She wrinkled her nose. "Right, sorry."

"Is your whole family against this?" Lucien asked softly.

Anakin looked at his toes. "They're not exactly thrilled with the idea."

"Why?"

Anakin looked up pleadingly at Serena. Serena shook her head. "You're own your own, sweetheart."

"You know what?" Lucien steeled himself. "Screw them. Let's go play some basketball."

Anakin looked over at his mother and sister. He let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. "O.K."

"This is going to be interesting," Serena mumbled.

The three friends barely set foot on the courts before the argument started.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Prue hissed.

Piper placed a strong hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I told you, sweetie: Lucien will be filling in for Wyatt until he gets here."

Prue glared daggers at Lucien. "What, this your idea?" Her tone cold and icy.

Anakin felt Serena's hand slip onto his shoulder.

"Be calm," she whispered.

He balled his hands into fist. "We need another player, Prue. Are you going to fill in?"

Prue gritted her teeth. "No."

"Fine. He's playing," Anakin said, daring her to argue.

The group stayed frozen in place. Then Chris spoke. "Kyle and I on a team, you and Lucien on the other?"

Anakin looked away from Prue. "Fine."

The game started. Kyle and Chris quickly gained the lead. The girls cheered on both sides. Everything seemed normal. Then Wyatt arrived.

"Wow, guys. Couldn't even wait half an hour?" Wyatt beamed, and soon spotted Lucien. "Luc, nice to see you."

That was the trigger. "Wyatt!" Prue shouted, then jumped down from the bleachers.

"Prue," Wyatt greeted.

"How can you be so—so—" Prue shook with anger. She looked at Lucien. "Go."

Anakin started to speak, but Lucien spoke over him. "Why, Prue? Can't I just watch?"

"No," Prue seethed. "You're not welcome here."

Everyone had moved off the court save for Prue and Lucien. They knew this was something that they should not get in the middle of.

Lucien squared his shoulders. "I don't think that's the case. Anakin wants me here. Serena doesn't mind me being here. You mother made the suggestion that I fill in for Wyatt. Wyatt and Chris don't seem to be bothered by me being here. Hell, even Kyle, who I'm sure has only heard terrible things about me, has been welcoming. No, Prue; I think it's just you who has a problem with me being here."

Prue's nostrils flared. "You nearly killed my brother. You'll never be welcome in this family."

Lucien looked over at Anakin. "Then why have I been invited to spend Christmas at the Manor?"

She spluttered. "I—you—hell!"

Kyle took a step toward Prue, but Chris held him in place.

Lucien walked right up to her. "I know you think I'm no better than my brother, and a part of me agrees with you. I abandoned Anakin when he had done nothing to deserve it. I hurt you and your family when you had been nothing but welcoming. I have never stopped kicking myself for acting so stupidly." He paused and looked into Prue's eyes. "And despite all this, Anakin still wants to be my friend. I don't deserve his acceptance, but I do need his help. And I definitely want his friendship. You don't have to accept me, Prue. You can hate me all you want. But I'm begging you to give me a second chance."

Prue stared at the elemental. "You don't deserve a second chance," she hissed and suddenly she slapped him across the face.

"PRUE!" Anakin run up to his sister. "What the hell!"

"No, Annie," Lucien whispered, gingerly prodding his reddening cheek. "I deserved that."

Pure glared. "Damn straight. You can fool everyone else, Lucien," she said the name acerbically, "but you can't fool me. You're here to use Anakin and then vanish again. You don't care about anyone but your pathetic insignificant self."

"Enough!" Anakin hissed, causing Prue to take a step back. "Just enough." He was shaking.

"Annie?" Lucien broached, touching him on his shoulder.

He gasped, feeling his legs give way as everything went black.

"ANAKIN!"

Someone was shaking him. He blinked. "Luc?"

"Damn it, dude, don't do that." Lucien sounded relieved.

Anakin looked around. He was no longer standing on the basketball court, but lying down on the grass. The rest of his loved ones and Kyle were standing around him with looks of relief on their faces. His mother grinned and sniffled.

"What happened?" He rubbed his throbbing head.

Piper knelt down. "You passed out, sweetie."

He sat up, ignoring the pain. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Lucien wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders.

His furrowed his brow. "How long?"

"Ten minutes."

His frown increased. "But it was so short," he muttered.

"What was, sweetie?" Piper brushed his sweaty hair to the side.

"Premonition." He breathed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. "Something important—damn it. Luc and Caleb and…" He screwed his face up. "Shit!"

"Language," Piper admonished half-heartedly.

Anakin ignored his mother. "Luc and Caleb. And school. It happens at school." Another wave of pain shot through his head. He cringed and bit his lip.

"Could one of you get here and heal the fucking bump!"

Wyatt walked over. "No need for the tone, Anakin."

The eldest Charmed Son held his hand over the large knob.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just need to think. Pain and thinking—don't mix."

"Right." Wyatt removed his hand. "Good as new."

Anakin nodded. "Happens at school. And shadows. I remember shadows." He squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "And death! Someone dies!"

"Who?" Lucien asked.

Anakin shook his head, defeated. "I don't remember."

"What about the demon?" Wyatt asked.

"Shadows. Shifting shadows. And he used an athame."

"Well, that's great!" Prue interjected. "With that description, we'll be going after half the underworld."

Anakin looked up at his sister. "And that's supposed to help?" He meant for it to sound angry, but it came out hopeless.

"Just saying," she whispered sheepishly.


	8. Hate That I Love You

Hate That I Love You

"Yo, Annie. Wake up," Damien screamed from the doorway.

Anakin groaned and rolled over. "Five more minutes, Mom."

Damien laughed. "I ain't your mom and you have a final in ten minutes."

That got his mind racing. He shot straight up. "What! Please, tell me you're kidding."

Damien shook his head. "Wish I was, dude, but alas, Biology waits for no soul."

"God, I'm _soooo_ dead." He jumped out of bed, ignoring the look he got from Damien. He opened his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top and heavy hooded sweatshirt.

"Don't forget to brush your hair. No caps on test days," Damien said as he left the room.

Breaking the world record for getting dressed, Anakin hurried into the bathroom and wet his hair. He combed it flat and wiped his face with a washcloth. He looked like crap, but it was finals: who cared?

"Ready!" he yelled.

Damien peeked around the corner. "Great. I was about to leave without ya."

"What's with the slang?" Anakin asked as he slipped on gloves.

Damien handed him his scarf. "Brain's fried."

"Oh." Anakin grabbed his cell phone and saw he had four messages and twenty missed calls.

"Your family's very persistent," Damien commented, glancing at the phone.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "You don't know the half of it." He slid his backpack on. "Let's go, five minutes."

Damien checked his watch. "Shit!"

They raced down to the car. Anakin gunned it and they eased into traffic. Arriving at school five minutes after class had started, the two friends rushed to lecture hall. The teacher's aide was passing out the test and did not look up when the two entered the classroom. Damien sat into his usual seat and Anakin slipped into one across the aisle.

"You're late," a classmate whispered.

Anakin nodded. "Late night. Miss anything?" He was wheezing.

"Nope, prof's late too." The boy smiled. "You must have a guardian angel or something."

"No talking, boys," the professor warned, walking into the classroom. "The final has officially begun."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Good luck."

"Same to you," Ethan whispered as the teacher's aide handed him the test.

Anakin concentrated on the test. Slowly the class emptied, but he kept on working. He had always been a slow test taker. He noticed Damien take his test up to the front and then sit back down. He glanced over at his friend who had pulled his hood over his head and rested his legs on the desk; chair tipped back. Shaking his head, Anakin returned to his test. Questions blurred as he started to think about the holidays and his plans.

"Half an hour." The monotonous professor droned from his desk.

Anakin flipped his test over and began searching for his starred questions. _What about Lucien? Damien?_

Actin moves positive to negative?

_Was Prue heading back? Was Kyle joining them? Kyle's family?_

He flipped the page, drummed his pencil.

_When had he said he would be at the Manor? _

_Had he gotten back his notes from that dunderhead in his economy class?_

"Fifteen minutes."

Anakin laid down his pencil with a click. With a deep breath, he pushed his chair back. _It's all over_. He strode briskly down to the professor's desk. Forcing a smile, he handed in his exam. Shoulders back, he walked back up to his seat and slumped into it. Damien slunk in the chair next to him.

"Expecting an A?" Damien asked softly.

Anakin shrugged. "Mind was elsewhere."

Damien chuckled. "Mr. Pessimist. Of course you're getting an A. You aced all his past finals."

"Doesn't mean I couldn't have bombed this one," he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

Rolling his eyes, Damien placed a hand on Anakin's. "Please, Annie: stop being so hard on yourself."

Anakin glanced down at Damien's hand then back into his eyes. Something just did not feel right. "Um, what are you doing for the holidays?"

Damien frowned. "Working. My dad's old friend offered me a temp job on an army base."

"Seriously?"

Damien smirked. "I know. It's kind of sucks."

"No kidding."

"But it could give me great connections. Always imagined myself going into the military someday." Shrugging, Damien scooted his chair back. "Well, I better be off. Calc final in ten."

"Oh, alright. Good luck." Anakin slipped out of his seat.

"Thanks. See you back at the apartment." With that, Damien left.

Anakin looked around the classroom, frowning. Something just did not feel right. He spun around idly, trying to put his finger on it. Finally, he shrugged and headed toward the door.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Halliwell."

Anakin turned around. "Oh. Right. Thanks. I'll certainly miss this class."

"Indeed." The professor smiled and wandered out of the classroom.

"Airhead," Anakin muttered.

A breeze whipped around him as he opened the door. Winter on the East Coast was very different from December in San Francisco. The courtyard was covered in snow and the trees were bare. The occasional student darted out of one building and vanished into another; the school felt deserted. Hugging himself, Anakin pushed onward heading toward the parking lot.

He reached the outskirts of the courtyard before the hairs on his neck stood on end. He spun around, guard up. Nothing. The courtyard was empty. Turning back around he stumbled backwards, surprised to find his path blocked by a massive, gleaming black chest. Another more careful step back revealed the chest to belong to a enormous mantis.

"Oh sh—"

Anakin threw himself out of the path of a deadly swipe. Rolling onto his back, he threw his hands out in front of his chest. The mantis stumbled backwards but shook off the blast. Scrambling to his feet, Anakin conjured an athame. He raised his hand to throw the blade but was knocked flat by the charging mantis. Forced to protect his head from being squished by the powerful mandibles, he dropped the athame.

Human hands were not meant to battle against the chitin-covered jaws. The razor sharp edges immediately sliced through skin to the bone. Still, Anakin did not release his hold, squeezing his eyes shut.

"WY!" he gasped out.

Desperate and fearful, he acted on instinct. A powerful kick hit one of the many insectoid joints. A loud crack was followed by an unearthly howl of pain. Suddenly free, Anakin slumped to the ground.

He allowed himself a second to recover before struggling back to his feet. He faced his attacker and threw an energy ball at it.

The giant bug's exoskeleton glowed dark blue for a fraction of a second, and the energy ball just vanished with a soft pop.

"Wyatt!" he yelled desperately, conjuring another energy ball.

The insect snapped its jaws and a crimson beam shot out from the point of each mandible.

Anakin drew upon his reserves and a large pale blue bubble of energy sprang up between him and the mantis. The tired witch looked on with horror as the red beam burned straight through the up-until-then impenetrable shield.

One beam missed and created a grapefruit-sized crater in the pathway. The other hit him directly on/in the shoulder; his entire right arm went limp and the smell of burnt flesh flooded his nose.

The insect rubbed its pincers roughly together. There was a moment of deafening silence. Then the wind shifted direction and howled through the deserted courtyard. Five gigantic shadowy wolves morphed and spewed out of the depths of the miniature blizzard. They surrounded Anakin.

"Fuck!" he swore, trying to stem the flow of blood from his shoulder. "CHRIS! WYATT! HELP!"

The mantis actually chuckled. "They won't be coming, little one. Wraith, inform your master I have contained the target."

The wraith to his right growled but nevertheless melted into the shadows. The others shifted to ensure he remained completely surrounded.

The blood loss was getting to him. The world started to spin, and Anakin could vaguely feel his legs trembling. Blackness swept over his vision for a moment, but it sapped him of his remaining energy to fight to stay conscious. Unable to stop himself, his legs gave way and he fell face first into the snow.

He struggled and rolled over. Unfortunately his momentum carried him into physical contact with the closest shadowy wolf. Pure and utter pain shot through every nerve in his body. Anakin's muscles contracted and his throat tore beneath the intensity of his scream. Thankfully, the darkness quickly took him, and this time he did not fight.

He only came to when an unfocused mass smacked him across the face.

Coughing, Anakin tasted blood, and a wave of nausea crashed over him.

"Pity," sneered the being. "He is still alive."

Anakin lifted his head up, which felt as though it weighed about the same as a boulder. His eyes slowly focused on a humanoid figure in front of him. The demon was made out of shadows, thick dark shadows. They appeared to seep out of him only to be sucked into other shadows.

_Very unnatural._

Despite being completely made of shadows, the being appeared to be smiling, or rather, leering.

"Anakin, don't stress yourself too much. My master wants you to still be sane after all this is over." The demon spoke in a low voice that sounded all too predatory. "My name is Beast, and I am the ruler of all the wraiths. Do you know what wraiths are?"

Anakin spat out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth. "Creatures that couldn't be turned into actual demons. Half-things. Vapor in the wind."

Beast slapped him across the face.

"Does that feel like 'vapor in the wind' to you?" he hissed.

Anakin clenched his jaw. His head began to pound.

"Beast, he will not survive another blackout."

The mantis stepped into Anakin's field of view.

Beast's form molded together and became more menacing. "Shut up, Gorog. Your payment is outside. You can leave."

Gorog rustled its wings. "I take no orders from you, Beast. Only the Master can tell me to leave."

Anakin closed his eyes and tried to telepathically reach one of his brothers. Coldness settled in on his shoulders, and his eyes snapped open. Beast's hands were sinking into his shoulders.

"I would not try that if I were you," Beast growled. "You are magically drained as it is without you doing anything foolish."

He pulled his hands back; the coldness, however, lingered.

"This place is magically sealed. No orbing, no scrying, and certainly no telepathic communications." He breathed the last three words directly into Anakin's ear.

"Why?" Anakin asked weakly; he shivered, trying to shake the iciness still sitting in his shoulders.

Beast sat down on the ground. "Jonathan is close. We could not afford to have you interfere with our meeting with him. We tried less invasive methods, but you proved too difficult to distract. My Master deemed it necessary to have you captured until the meeting concluded."

Anakin pulled gingerly on his chains. Secure, solid. No escape.

"What is he?" He indicated at Gorog with his chin.

"Oh, Gorog? It is a megentomos: powerful upper-level demon for hire. Related to drone demons, but much more effective. It was thought that your mother had killed them all before your brother's Wiccaning, but we found a colony that survived."

"You attacked in the open." The shock was evident in his voice.

Beast actually laughed. "Magic has been exposed for years. Good tried to cover up Jonathan's rampage, but they failed. Your President's little witch-hunt is proof of that. Evil has nothing to fear from being exposed; we have no morals. Good, on the other hand, now has to be extra cautious lest it has to decide whether to stand up and fight or roll over and die."

Anakin stared at the shadow figure.

Beast tilted his head and chuckled. "You clearly chose the latter. Using only your less showy powers even when you saw they were no match for Gorog's exoskeleton."

There was movement by the entrance and Beast stood up.

"Watch him or deal with our Master's wrath for losing him," he said without removing his eyes from Anakin.

Then he was gone, just like that. No showy flash of light or dissolving of shadows. Just gone.

Gorog clacked angrily after Beast left but did as it was told. Anakin sat in a wooden chair becoming acutely aware of the splinters digging into his body. The metal cuffs started to bite into his skin as he continued to try and muscle his way into freeing his hands. The silence was deafening as the minutes dragged on.

Shadows grew around Gorog. The giant mantis quivered and scuttled backwards. The shadows glided upward and formed into one of the massive wolf-like creatures. This one, unlike Beast, had eyes, fiery beady ones. It snarled and whipped its tail impatiently. Gorog snapped its mandibles in a feeble gesture of defiance.

The wraith also looked different from the ones Gorog had been bossing around. It was far more…. Anakin searched for the right word, could not find it, and watched with growing apprehension as the demon approached.

A flip of its tail knocked his chair over. Anakin's head bounced off the cement floor and spots flicked across his vision. No sooner had the spot cleared than the wraith had a massive icy paw on his chest. He screamed in utter agony. Nothing had hurt him this badly before; it was like having thousands of molten hot needles driven into his lungs and heart. It was too painful to breathe, to think. He just screamed until he ran out of breath and allowed unconsciousness to take him.

Only the darkness never came. Instead, a sudden rush of adrenaline had him kicking and yelling for his life. There was a howling laughter and the pressure on his chest lessened. The stabbing pain became a dull thud. As his vision cleared, Anakin watched the wraith take on the shape of a man. The shadows dripped off his skin revealing a man with sandy brown hair and merciless grey eyes. He bent down and grabbed a fistful of Anakin's hair. With a tug, the wraith righted the chair.

Anakin bit back a yelp. He glared up at the man in defiance.

"Would you like a chance to vanquish me?" The wraith smiled cockily. "My name is Amon Drew. I am second-in-command of the Master's wraiths."

"That supposed to impress me?" Anakin growled.

Amon shrugged. "I could care less how you feel, Anakin Halliwell. I just want to know why our creator would sacrifice himself for that mutt of a vampire."

Gorog made its presence known with a crackling sound that stabbed at Anakin's very soul. He watched Amon narrow his eyes and wave his hand. Dark purple flames surrounded the insect, which howled in agony.

"Do not interrupt me, megentomos. Beast might be above vanquishing you, but I would have no greater pleasure than to rip you limb from limb."

Gorog twitched and glowered. "He is to know nothing, Amon. Master told us to let the witches know nothing."

"Witches?" The question left his lips before he could stop it.

Amon nodded. "You did not think you were the only one tracking Jonathan did you? Master wants his meeting with the vampire to be uninterrupted by any of your kind. He believes it will be the only way to make Jonathan see how futile it would be to stand up against the new regime."

Anakin gulped.

Amon's lips twitched. "Scared?"

"No!" Anakin's eyes blazed.

"Well you should be. Master has a history with your family. He wants to take care of the Halliwells personally. And with the power of Hellequin and the Source belonging to him, not even the Twice-Blessed will be able to stand up against him," the wraith spoke like a true believer.

Anakin felt his hands go clammy. Clearly these demons were well organized and had powerful allies. To call back the Source's powers took a lot of powerful magic, especially with the Grimoire destroyed. And this Master, whoever he was, clearly felt he had the power to take on a Power That Be, even if that Power was only alive in body. Jonathan had been dreadfully close to being omnipotent before having his soul transferred into the body of one of the founders of magic. Now he should be nearly indestructible.

The thought made him wonder why he and Lucien had been so worried about Jonathan's safety. But obviously they had been right in being concerned. These demons, wraiths, or whatever meant business.

"How is your master going to call back the Source's powers without the Grimoire?"

Amon appeared to ponder the question. Then he licked his lips. "Master can do things you cannot even imagine."

Anakin felt a fist squeeze around his heart. Were they seriously going to be dragged into another life and death situation? Was his family going to survive this one? Or would his worst fears be realized? Was it his family's destiny to die and leave him alone? Was he the first destined to die this time?

Amon clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Halliwell. I tell you we have other captive, and you don't even care who they are. What would your precious Elders say about that?"

Anakin steeled his voice. "Fuck off."

"Oh!" He grinned. "Touched a nerve, did we?"

Amon conjured up a chair and straddled it.

"Tell you what. How about I take you to our other esteemed guest?" He cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure you'll enjoy his company."

Anakin studied Amon's face for any hint of deception. In the background, Gorog was growing impatient, shuffling around and smacking its talons together. He tried to reach out and sense telepathically for the other witch but his mind abruptly felt sluggish.

"Your reserves are depleted, Halliwell." The wraith hummed, a smug smile planted on his face. "It'll take days for you to recover without a whitelighter intervention."

Anakin looked into the grey eyes of his captor and saw only pure enjoyment. Amon was enjoying this twisted form of torture. Clearly someone he knew was captured. And he was powerless to help him. What was worse, the person could have been caught trying to save him. And then there was Amon dangling that tidbit of information in front of him. Did he dare try and grab it, or was it a ploy?

"If I'm so weak, why are you keeping me tied up?" He glanced at the cuffs.

Gorog, seemingly finding it impossible to be quiet any longer, blurted out, "He must be detained!"

Amon rolled his eyes. "Relax, bug-eyes, I'm not going to remove his shackles." He looked at Anakin again. "Unless he promises not to try anything idiotic."

Gorog quivered. "You cannot release him! He _cannot_ be trusted" Gorog's voice was so high-pitched that it hurt to listen to it.

"Seems my colleague has a problem with trust. But we can trust you, right?" Amon's eyes glinted with mirth. Obviously he loved to torture Gorog just as much as a prisoner.

"It's not like I can orb out of here," Anakin admitted.

Amon looked over his shoulder. "Why make his stay here anymore uncomfortable than it has to be, Gorog? He is powerless. And should he somehow find a way to overpower us, there is an army just waiting to break his fragile body."

At that moment there was a howl from deep down the corridor. Anakin shivered. Amon was not kidding about the army.

"Beast left him with the cuffs on," Gorog tried to argue.

Amon nodded. "But he is no longer able to keep Anakin company. I would prefer to talk to him in a more relaxed setting. This room is too much like a dungeon."

The room shifted and settled on the image of a fire-lit living room. With a thrill of recognition, Anakin realized the room was a replica of Lucien's uncle's cabin. The two of them had spent a Thanksgiving weekend alone there. How had Amon known? Or had the room been generic…?

"It's a pity Lucien can't join us," Amon said from across the room. Anakin had not seen him get up, but there he was leaning against the fireplace.

"How'd you—"

"Know?" Amon pushed himself off the fireplace. "My specialty is interrogation, Halliwell. Getting into a person's mind. This place, or rather the memory in this place, was very—_powerful_."

Anakin swallowed. "You're a telepath?"

Amon shook his head. "I'm not limited to such labels. I simply am magic. What I need it to do, it does. But I focused on the more psychic side of things. Beast has always been more of a cloak-and-daggers person. And yet others of my brethren specialize on other aspects of magic. But we are all capable performing any feat of magic."

Anakin looked around the room. Everything was exactly how he remembered it. His heart fluttered at the memory of being alone with Lucien. And his mind reminded him of the very real possibility he may never see Lucien again.

"Where is Gorog?"

Disgust played across Amon's face. "Bug-eyes was called away, thankfully."

"I didn't feel him go," Anakin said, mostly to himself.

"Megentomos are very slippery beings and the same goes for their magic. It is what makes them the perfect assassins or bounty hunters. That, and the fact that their exoskeleton is impenetrable to all but the most specific magic." Amon chose to sit on the large sofa.

Anakin watched in silence as Amon hummed a pop tune, nearly mesmerized by the wraith's humanness. Sure, he knew and caught glimpses of the wraith's evil nature, but Amon appeared to be very human: a human who liked to mentally torture people, but a human nevertheless. It was not a trait he had ever seen in a demon, darklighter, or warlock before.

"Can all wraiths take on human form?"

Amon nodded. "To some degree or another. Most don't. They enjoy the power and freedom the wolf gives them physically."

"Can Beast?"

Amon licked his lips. "He is what he wants to be."

Frowning, Anakin cleared his throat. He was very thirsty all of a sudden.

Amon flicked a finger and the metal cuffs fell away. "Water is in the kitchen."

"Why are you being so—so kind?"

Anakin walked over to the kitchen.

"I find torture is only useful when a person is weak-minded. You have proven to be most resilient. I need answers, and I will get them. But I see no point in being rude about it. You collect more flies with honey than vinegar." Amon settled more comfortably into the sofa.

Anakin returned and stood in front of his captor. "I don't know why Hellequin saved Jonathan's life."

Amon smiled and Anakin got the impression he had anticipated the answer. "Oh, but you do. Hellequin was the master of legions, yet he sacrificed everything in order to bring an end to Jonathan's rule. I have suspected for some time that he knew Jonathan posed a larger threat than Jonathan himself even knew."

"He wanted revenge. Jonathan had killed Brendan, and Hellequin felt that was a personal insult."

"Oh, I know. See, Halliwell, Brendan and Hellequin were lovers, or at least that is the best way to describe it to someone who has no sense of the Powers That Be. Revenge was a motivating factor, but Hellequin would not have exposed my kind to the enmity of demons for such a petty reason…"

As he spoke, Amon got this glint in his eyes. Anakin understood in that moment what Amon was looking for. Hellequin had been a powerful figure in his life and his actions toward the end did not fit neatly in the construct Amon had built. So he needed something, anything, to make everything fit back in the view of the world that had been so carefully cultured for him.

Anakin noticed things had gone silent. He looked over at Amon. The wraith was studying him but not in the cold methodical way he had before. It was more of a searching for hope. Anakin shifted uncomfortably.

Amon dropped his gaze and folded his hands. "Perhaps I was wrong. You do know nothing."

"No, I don't," Anakin spoke.

He cringed when Amon's eyes met his, but Amon did not look angry.

"Master has a plan for you," Amon whispered. "He has already set things in motion. People close to you will betray you. He wants you to know the pain of loss and betrayal."

"Who is he?"

Amon shook his head. "There are some things I cannot do. Speaking his name has been forbidden. Telling you who he has in your circle is forbidden. But they forgot to tell me I could not drop hints. Point you in the right direction. I served Hellequin because he was my creator. This thing now is a fool and power hungry. He will spell the ruin of everything the Powers created."

Anakin rubbed his wrists. He felt like he was intruding in on a very private conversation. "So why does Beast follow him?"

Amon laughed hollowly. "Beast doesn't follow anyone. He looks out for himself, but he does not like to think for himself. When Hellequin died, Beast was in command. But he found it was not to his liking, so he made this pact with the devil. He got the blood of the most powerful in the Charmed line and Master got command of the armies once loyal to Hellequin."

Anakin noticed a shimmer in the corner of the room. Amon must have noticed it too, because Anakin found himself cuffed again. He watched the corner as shadows engulfed the light. Amon's shape shifted back into the giant wolf, and he slipped into the cracks of the ground. Anakin watched the tendrils of Amon and the warm cabin room disappear and felt very alone. He played at the cuffs, which was easier know as Amon had bound his hands in front of him, but they were sturdy. Not that it mattered: he still felt like he was barely getting over a nasty bout of the flu. Fatigue, aches and pain, the slight disjointedness between his mind and his actions. Any use of useful magic was still far beyond his reach.

The shadows shifted once more and out stepped the last person Anakin expected to see. Lucien strode into the room looking worse for wear, but alert.

His eyes lit up. "Anakin! Thank God you're here."

Anakin shut his mouth and blinked. "How?"

Lucien frowned, then spotted the lingering shadow trails. "Oh, that?"

"No, not that!" Anakin snapped, his annoyance restarting his brain. "Well, yes that. But more importantly here—you?" He was still a bit dumbfounded.

Lucien shrugged. "I felt you calling for help. I got to school just as they were preparing to transport you away. A lightning bolt and a couple of fireballs later, I was also their prisoner."

Anakin's brain started piecing things together. "You're the other witch."

Shrugging, Lucien stepped closer. "You look like hell."

"I feel it." Anakin sunk into the couch. "I must have used more magic than I thought."

"Oh!" Lucien's brown eyes sparkled with remembrance. Lucien plunged his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small oval crystal. "I think it took your magic."

Anakin took the crystal and examined it. "Never seen anything like this before."

"Who conjured this place up? And why?" Lucien asked, not paying Anakin much attention.

"Amon, he's a wraith," Anakin answered, poking the crystal.

The elemental sat down next to Anakin. "We need to escape."

"No kidding."

"Warded. And I can't shadow out of the Underworld."

Lucien placed a hand on Anakin's knee. Anakin felt it trembling. He slipped his hand over it and gave it a squeeze.

"Don't worry, Luc, we've gotten out of worse scrapes than this before."

Lucien was about to reply when Gorog appeared in the room. It looked pissed.

"Crap!" Lucien flicked his hand, throwing an energy dart at the insect.

The darts rebounded off the black exoskeleton. Then Gorog attacked with blinding fast swipes. Anakin reacted out of instinct and threw out his energy shield, which surprisingly held. But the second Gorog stepped back he let it drop, panting. He felt lightheaded and feverish. A storm of blue and white lightning grew out of Lucien's palms. Anakin, heart still racing, watched as the elemental attack tore through one of Gorog's legs.

The mantis stumbled and howled in pain.

Anakin stared in wonder as Lucien's attack grew even larger. Strikes cracked Gorog's exoskeleton, driving the maddened Megentomos further and further away from the two witches. The attack was deafening as clap after clap of thunder echoed through the room. Through it all, Lucien stood perfectly calm directing the attacks; Anakin could not help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Halliwells were the protectors, not the ones who needed protection.

Finally, Lucien lowered his hands. The storm, however, raged on. He was sweating and breathing heavily, but he beamed with pride.

"I'm only the second in my family to be able to do that," Lucien said as he pulled Anakin to his feet.

Anakin glanced at the storm; it was dying down. In the corner of the room lay a smoking pile of limbs and exoskeleton. Though parts still twitched, Anakin knew Gorog was dead.

"Megentomos are nearly impossible to kill," Anakin whispered in amazement.

Lucien nodded. "He was probably worn out. And he certainly was not expecting me to be the one attacking. Not with you in the picture. Powers or not."

Wordlessly, Anakin took the lead and cautiously stepped out of the room. The corridor was empty, but he could vaguely hear the sounds of life. He hesitated for a moment; Lucien nudged him to the right. Anakin started down the corridor. As he moved further away from his prison room, he could not help but feel a growing sense of disappointment and panic. His innate connection with his siblings should have snapped back to life. But it had not, leading him to a very dark thought: the wards covered the entire hideout. No help would be coming any time soon.

Anakin felt Lucien right behind him. The elemental was tense and breathing heavily. Neither dared to speak; any sound could alert their captors to their escape. And while Lucien handled Gorog well enough, Anakin doubted they would stand a chance against a wraith without the Power of Three backing them up.

They passed what appeared to be a guard station of some sort. It was empty save for a collection of keys and potions—and more of the weird oval crystals. Anakin stopped and took a closer look. One of these keys must unlock his cuffs.

Lucien bent in close. "What are you doing?"

Anakin held up his arms in answer and went back to looking at the keys.

"I can unlock those."

Anakin nodded. "I know." He kept his voice barely audible. "But the magic might attract attention."

Lucien must have taken the answer as a good enough reason as he fell silent. Anakin continued to scan through the keys hoping one would match the cuffs in color and wear. Most of them were clearly for doors or gates, others were too small, a couple looked promising but on second glance, proved to be the wrong shade of chromium. Losing hope, Anakin hissed his frustration.

"These crystals, they're the wrong color," Lucien commented.

Anakin glanced over. "Empty?"

Shrugging, Lucien scooped them up. "Do you know what the potions are?"

"Nope, grab them," Anakin said, shoulders slumped.

Lucien dropped his gaze to the cuffs before looking Anakin in the eyes. "It'll take just a small spark."

Anakin gritted his teeth. Just a spark—just a tiny use of magic that would last for a tenth of a second. But that could be all Beast needed to have a squadron of wraiths on them. It simply was not worth it. He would not have his magic no matter what. It was best to keep themselves hidden: avoid a confrontation.

"No, we'd better just keep moving."

Lucien looked at him for a second longer before stepping aside. "Lead the way."

Anakin sighed. They could not afford to get caught. It was as simple as that, and yet he felt like he had just betrayed Lucien somehow.

They came to a stop again when the corridor split. Both ways looked equally dark and endless. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears of aggravation and despair. Still no inkling of a connection to his brothers and one wrong move could spell the end to their run for freedom. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at Lucien.

"Right or left?"

"More demons to the left, but I also think that is the quickest way out of this hellhole. I feel the end of a barrier," Lucien whispered.

Anakin unconsciously reached into his pocket and fiddled with the oval crystal. He furrowed his brow, feeling it warm at his touch.

"What made you think they trapped my magic in this?"

Lucien shrugged, leaning against the cavern wall. "Beast kept taunting me with it, saying it was the only way to save my friend. Then when I found you and you were a zero on my power radar, I put two and two together."

"Did Beast say anything else about it? Like how to break it or activate it?"

"Nope." Lucien's eyes grew wide. "Demons heading our way."

Anakin clutched the crystal. "We need to reach my brothers. If their leader gets to Jonathan, there will be no way to stop him."

Anakin could hear the footsteps now. He swallowed. Breaking the crystal would require magic. But if it got him back to full strength, he could orb them to the edge of the ward. Voices drifted down the corridor. The demons were arguing about something. Anakin looked into Lucien's wild eyes.

"Break it," he whispered, holding the stone out.

Lucien glanced down at his palm. "Are you insane? That would alert the whole army to our location."

"I can orb to the ward's edge if I get my powers back," Anakin hurriedly explained.

Lucien raised his hand and muttered a prayer.

Anakin felt the stone begin to vibrate, a slow throbbing at first, but it quickly picked up pace. As the stone began to hum, the demons got agitated. He looked down the corridor but all he saw was darkness.

"Hurry, Luc!"

The stone jumped out of his palm and fell to the floor with a sharp clang, then the whole corridor shook. Anakin nearly laughed as he felt his magic rush back into his body. He could now feel the demons or wraiths running toward them.

"Luc!" he shouted, but was too late.

A mass of shadow bounded out of the corridor and crashed into the recovering elemental. Anakin wiggled his finger and the cuffs exploded apart. Another more dramatic gesture and the shadows gained a large hole. A fireball from Lucien chased the wraith completely back into the shifting shadows. Anakin ran over.

"You ok?"

Luc cringed. "It nearly ripped my throat out."

Sure enough, Lucien's neck had scratch marks. The witch-whitelighter bent down.

"It'll be back."

Lucien sat up. "Can you orb?"

Anakin bit his lip. "Not sure. Only one way to find out."

"Always hated orbing," Luc muttered as the two turned into a swirling mass of blue and white orbs.

They reappeared next to a shimmering wall.

"Not a type of ward I've seen before."

Lucien reached out and hesitantly touched the fluid-like energy field. "Not earth or wind magic."

"We have to get through it."

"Then let's go," Lucien suggested and took a step toward the ward.

Anakin stopped him. "It could kill you."

"So could those demons."

Anakin let go and held his breath.

Lucien shut his eyes and took one big step into the ward. Alarms blared announcing the unauthorized crossing of the threshold. Anakin let out his breath when Lucien was through. He took a step to follow and was surprised to find he made it through as well. His connection to his siblings suddenly bombarded him with thoughts of concern, joy, and relief.

Neither waited a moment longer. Together they transported themselves to the Manor.

Wyatt held his hand over the last of Anakin's bruises. The warm healing glow went to work.

"And you're certain that this Amon was telling the truth?"

Anakin rolled his eyes for the hundredth time. "Yes. He does not like Beast or this 'Master.' He was infatuated with Hellequin. He is trying to protect Hellequin in the only way he can see possible."

Wyatt lowered his hand. "Then why not tell you specifics?"

"_Because_," Anakin said, getting impatient, "he was forbidden from doing so."

"But he's against this Master person and Beast. Why follow what he is ordered to do if he is going to betray them?"

"Magical rules. Wraith could be subject to a similar rule as genies are. Commands are unbreakable," Chris thought out loud. "Or he could just be pulling your chain. Setting you up to get yourself killed."

Anakin shook his head and stood up. "They had me at their mercy. If they wanted me dead, I would be dead. The new Source has a vendetta against this family and wants us to suffer. Beast wants to kill Wyatt. And Amon is against them from getting their way. Clear enough for you?"

Chris waved his hand. "Calm down, Annie. We're just trying to make everything fit. I mean, your escape was far too easy. You didn't run into anyone until you broke that crystal. Amon vanished when Lucien entered the room. There are just too many variables that aren't adding up."

Anakin glowered, crossed his arms, and huffed. "What—"

Chris cut him off with a sharp tone. "No! We wait for Mom and the aunts."

He balled his hands into fists. They were wasting precious time waiting. They should be out looking for Jonathan. Exhaling sharply, Anakin left the room. He marched up to the attic, ignoring the look he got from his dad as he passed him. Upon reaching the attic, he was startled to see the door already ajar.

"Luc?" Anakin called out cautiously.

There was a moment's pause, then a reluctant, "In here."

Anakin released the tension building in his shoulders with a slow breath.

"What are you doing up here?"

Lucien closed the Book of Shadows. He looked worried and tired and tense, his shoulders hunched. He licked his cracked lips and lowered himself onto one of the numerous trunks.

Anakin took up a spot on his mother's old rocking chair. "You OK?"

Lucien bit his lower lip and grimaced.

Anakin reached out and took his hand. "Come on, Luc. It's just me."

"What if this is a mistake?" Lucien said, barely audible. He blinked and a lone tear ran down his cheek. "He tried to kill us."

Anakin squeezed Lucien's hand. "He's your brother, Luc. He didn't do anything that Wyatt didn't do in the alternative timeline." He offered a comforting smile.

Lucien pulled away. "It's different, Annie. This isn't about saving your family."

Anakin cringed. It was true; this was different. Jonathan was not a good witch who went through hell and turned evil. He was a vampire-demon hybrid and a powerful one at that. But Anakin also knew that Jonathan wasn't evil anymore. And that bugged him more than he let on. How did he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jonathan was as good as either of his brothers? He had a twisted sense of right and wrong, but on the whole, he was good.

"It's not different. He's _your_ family and that makes him a part of our family," Anakin smoothly lied.

Lucien shook his head. "That's not true and you know it. I'm not your boyfriend anymore, Annie. And even if I were, after what Jonathan did—they're more likely to kill him than help."

He had him there. It would most certainly be the first suggestion from a number of his family members. Prue will definitely not go for saving Jonathan. And he had seen the way Wyatt's eyes darkened at the mention of the vampire's name. Chris would be more reasonable, more logical. His dad and mom would want to keep the family out of the mess, and do only what was necessary to protect the world. It was going to be a hard sell, but he was convinced he was doing the right thing.

"Screw them then. We can go after him. We can save him."

This time Lucien actually laughed. "Anakin, we could barely handle them when they were trying to capture us. They're not going to be that picky if we try to protect Jonathan, I think."

Anakin sighed, slumping further into the rocking chair. He hated feeling defeated. "We need the Power of Three."

Lucien nodded slowly. "And I don't think we're going to get it."

Anakin ran his hand through his hair.

"Annie? You up here?"

Anakin turned. "Yeah, Mom."

Piper walked through the attic door a second later. "How are you, Lucien?" she greeted warmly.

Lucien put on a fake smile. "OK, I guess."

Piper smirked. "Your brothers told me that you two were in a bit of a situation earlier."

"I got captured and Lucien rescued me," Anakin summarized, not wanting to go into details. "But the important thing is we learned that whoever is evil's new boss has found Jonathan."

"Oh?" Piper's eyes narrowed. "And that is a bad thing?"

"Yes!" Anakin nearly jumped out of his seat. "Mom, if they get Jonathan's powers—they'll—they'll be invincible."

"And so you want to go out and protect Jonathan." Piper crossed her arms over her chest.

Anakin hesitated; that was never a good sign. "Well, yeah."

Pursing her lips, Piper looked over at Lucien. "And what happens when you find him?"

Lucien looked like a deer caught in headlights. Anakin jumped to his defense. "Mom!"

Piper shifted her steady gaze to Anakin.

"We do what we do for any innocent: protect them," Anakin said firmly.

"Without knowing who's after him or their powers. Or why they're after him?" Piper tapped her foot. "You know better than that, Anakin. This could put the whole family in danger."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "The family is already a target. Evil's boss has a vendetta against the Halliwells. Allowing him to get Jonathan will only make things worse for us."

"This is according to the demon you befriended," Piper said in a low voice.

Anakin stood up. "Mom, I'm doing this with or without you. I got those visions for a reason. Lucien and I met for a reason. Who knows? Maybe my being captured was fate's way of giving us a heads up on things."

Piper unfolded her arms. "That's exactly what Chris said you would say." Now she sounded beaten.

"Will you help us?" Lucien asked, unsure.

"Anakin isn't giving us much of a choice," Piper said kindly. "Chris already has a few potion ideas brewing on the stove."

Anakin shot Lucien a smile. "And Wyatt?"

"Don't you go celebrating, mister," Piper admonished. "This is not a good thing."

Anakin lowered his head. "Sorry."

Piper exhaled. "Wyatt's gathering old demonic weapons in the basement. And they asked if you two would do research on wraiths."

"There's nothing in the Book," Lucien said, patting the Book of Shadows.

Anakin licked his lips, thinking. "But there must be something in there. Otherwise why wipe the copies?"

He walked over to the podium. Lucien stepped aside and Anakin took center stage. He began flipping through the pages in quick succession. He felt both Lucien and his mother looking over his shoulder, but he tried to ignore them. The new Source seemed like a very smart and cunning person. The only reason that Anakin could think of to risk a premature encounter would be to get information, information not available anywhere else. He stopped on the page describing Jonathan, but it felt wrong. Then the Book fell open to the page on Hellequin.

He read it carefully. His French was not wonderful, but he could muddle through.

"Think you've found something?" Lucien whispered.

Anakin shrugged. "Not sure. It's the page on Hellequin. Most of it is description of his history and powers and the vanquishing potion by Grams."

"When did you learn French?" Piper asked, frowning at the page.

Anakin smiled. "Took it senior year of high school. Thanks for showing me how much you pay attention."

Piper smacked him on the shoulder. "A lot happened last year, Annie."

"Well, the vanquishing potion might help. If Hellequin is supposed to be the leader of all the wraiths, they must share something in common." Anakin conjured a notepad and pen.

"Wraiths—they're like super-demons?"

Anakin nodded. "We learned about them in History of Magic. They're supposed to be the forerunners for demons. More ethereal and more raw power, but because they've not been seen since the time of the pyramids, we never learned much more."

"My book has nothing on them," Lucien continued. "But that's no surprise. Elementals aren't that concerned with demons. We're more philosophical by nature."

"The monks of the magical world," Anakin joked, copying down the last line of the potion directions. "Done. What about spells?"

"I'll get my black book after I give Chris the dried bloodroot." Piper snatched up a pouch from the nearby bookshelf. "Chris thinks he'll be done in half an hour." With that, she left Anakin and Lucien alone.

"See, Luc? Nothing to worry about," Anakin muttered but even he did not believe it.

Lucien took Anakin's hand and turned him around. "Annie—" He swallowed. "Thank you."

Anakin intertwined his fingers with Lucien's. "You're welcome."

His lips felt very dry, but he resisted the urge to lick them. His light blue eyes looked into worried brown ones, and his heart skipped a beat. In that moment, nothing else existed for Anakin: just him and Lucien. He leaned in closer. Lucien closed the gap and their lips met. The kiss lasted for only the briefest of moments but to him, it felt like an eternity.

Then he pulled away and dropped Lucien's hand. Reality returned full force and he mentally cursed himself. He looked at Lucien, who gazed at him confused and hurt.

"Sorry," Anakin said, running a hand nervously through his hair. "That—sorry."

Why the hell had he done that? Just when things were becoming normal between them. They were friends! And there he went and destroyed all of it. _DAMN IT!_

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right." He lowered his hand and bit his lip. "Now what?"

"Erm..."

"Ok, then…" Voice trailing off, Lucien clutched his hands together. "Want to talk about it?"

Anakin shook his head; he kept his eyes fix on his toes. "We need to find Jonathan."

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Lucien slipped around Anakin. "I'll get Wyatt."

Anakin nodded but did not look up. He heard Lucien mutter something and watched the elemental leave the attic.

What had come over him? Why had he kissed Lucien? Why had he screwed everything up? For a second or two of being that close again?

He slipped into the rocking chair and covered his face with his hand. Life was so much easier when the biggest concern he had was what demon would be coming after him. Now he was dragging his family into the line of fire. And the only reason he was even remotely interested in saving Jonathan was what, now? It was not like Lucien had broken the kiss. Could it work? Could they maybe/possibly get back together? Is that what he really wanted?

Anakin was broken out of his thoughts by a bang that shook the whole house. Forgetting his personal problems, he jumped up from the chair and raced toward the attic door. Only a shadow plunged into him, entangled his limbs, and sent him flying toward the ground. He slammed his elbow into something solid and the shadow's hold on him loosened. He orbed, only to bounce off some sort of force field. Crashing back onto the attic floor, Anakin's eyes followed the shadow as it gather together.

The wraith materialized in the form of a lean, naked man. Black tattoos covered most of the man's skin and what was not covered was scarred beyond recognition. One eye socket was completely empty. The remaining eye was an eerie green, and it was trained intently on Anakin. The wraith gave the floored witch a crooked grin.

"Anakin Halliwell," he growled as a tight black outfit materialized around his form. "Beast sends his regards."

The wraith conjured a nasty-looking athame and chucked it at Anakin. His shield sprang to life and the athame rebounded, landing on the ground, useless. He rolled to his feet and fired a fireball at the wraith; the attack was swallowed by shadows. Anakin gritted his teeth and readied himself for a drawn out battle.

Another explosion distracted Anakin with worries of his family's safety. The distraction, however, nearly proved fatal: an athame whizzed past his face and clipped his ear. Warm, sticky liquid dribbled down behind his ear. Cursing himself for his mistake, Anakin charged the grotesque wraith. He followed the wraith's hand as he circled around in an attempt to catch him, or so he thought. Instead he found himself flying through the air and into the Book of Shadows' pedestal. His back cried out in protest as splitters pierced his bruised skin.

He tried to cough, but the wind had been knocked out of him. This wraith was fast and smart. Anakin was seriously beginning to believe he would not be winning this fight. That thought set a shiver of fear down his spine. For the second time that day his mind froze with fear, not for others, but for himself. And this time he knew there would be no rescue; the explosions told him his family was fighting their own battles. He steeled himself and stared up at his killer.

The wraith bent down to collect the athame deflected by his shield. "Impressive little trick, witch. Not many can stop a coffer once it is set on a course."

The one-eyed demon casually rolled the coffer through his fingers. Anakin kept his eyes on the dagger, ready to throw up his shield at a moment's notice while he struggled to catch his breath. Another step closer, the wraith dropped his hand and the coffer vanished.

"Why don't you stand up? It must be uncomfortable lying on that rubble." As he spoke, Anakin felt a powerful tug on his shoulder and before he could protest, he found himself standing up. "Isn't that better?"

Anakin frowned. "Get on with it, wraith."

The scarred mouth twisted into a grin that revealed a mouth full of sharpened teeth. "Now why would I want to rush this, Anakin? I have you at my mercy and I do so enjoy the moments of utter hopelessness before my prey takes its final breath."

Anakin growled and attacked with a bolt of lightning. The wraith caught the bolt and dissipated the energy into a swirling display of light. Anakin struggled to not cry out in despair. Instead he flicked his wrists, fueling the attack with his fear and anger. The attack must have taken the wraith by surprise as it stumbled backwards and let out a yelp of pain. Anakin raised his hands to repeat the attack, but the element of surprise was gone.

The wraith whipped its hand and a snarl distorted its face. A whip of fire caught Anakin across the back. He dropped to the floor as the pain caused tears to blur his vision. He wiped his eyes furiously trying to keep track of the wraith. But the next attack was just as unexpected. A bolt of lightning hit his shoulder and made his right arm go painfully numb.

Anakin slammed his useful hand onto the floor and a jolt of power shook the house. Items crashed to the floor and the wraith followed suit. Anakin scrambled to his feet as the wraith regained its footing and plowed into the deformed demon.

He punched and kicked anything and everything. His attack was relentless, an act of pure desperation. The wraith fought back and landed a few blows, but Anakin was past the point of feeling. He knew he was going to die, but he was going to take this demon with him. He did not even notice when the coffer ripped and shredded clothing and skin. Luck had it that the wraith could never land a strong blow to penetrate deep enough to cause serious harm.

Driven by the fury that had taken him, Anakin overpowered the wraith and ripped the dagger out of its hand. Then he slammed it into the wraith's good eye. The wraith screamed and savagely clawed at Anakin's face. Anakin twisted the dagger out of the socket, pulling the remains of an eye with it. He blocked the wraith's attempt to gouge out his eyes and plunged the demon's own weapon into its neck. Warm, dark liquid sprayed out and the wraith gurgled in shock.

Anakin let go of the dagger and rolled off the demon, shaking and breathing hard. The wraith twitched and he yelled. A blast of magic rushed out of his body and incinerated the wraith. He collapsed, shivering.

He had done it. A part of him still could not believe it. He had been so ready to die, to feel the sharp pain of an athame piercing his heart. But he was still alive; beaten and bruised, but alive. Anakin lay in the debris of the battle amazed at the turn of events. But the screams of pain brought him crashing back to reality. It was not over yet.

Anakin struggled to his feet and stumbled to the door. A shove of will and whatever ward the wraith had placed on the attic snapped open. He pushed the door open, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs.

He crashed into a limp body, head pounding and the rest of his body screaming in agony. His mind caught up to the situation: he was lying next to a limp body! He rolled over and saw that it was Chris.

_God__,__ no!_

He ignored his muscles' protests and rolled Chris over. A trickle of blood ran down the brown-haired witch's lip. Anakin held his hand over Chris's chest and the warm golden glow illuminated his brother's body. He felt his power work and moments later, Chris took a gasping breath of air.

"Annie!" Chris groaned. "You're OK."

Anakin nodded. "What happened?"

"Big ugly thug attacked me." Chris gingerly pressed a hand against his chest and cringed. "I was running to help you. You OK?"

Anakin cringed as a piercing back pain reminded him he was anything but alright. "Fine, just bumps and bruises. How many?"

"Considering Jonathan is in our kitchen, the whole fucking army." Chris sat up. "You don't look fine."

"Nothing we can do about it, Chris. Where's Mom?"

"Before Goliath knocked me into oblivion, she was with me." Chris's eyes widened. "Oh God, Mom!"

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to sense his mother, but the pain was too distracting. All he got was a high-pitched ring. "My sensing powers are scrambled."

"WYATT!" Chris yelled out, crawling to his feet. "WYATT!"

Anakin also got to his feet, but the bump to his head made that very difficult. The world swam in and out of focus and his legs felt like jelly. He grabbed onto Chris and muffled a cry of pain. His ankle was twisted, if not broken.

"Maybe you should stay here, Annie," Chris suggested, wrapping an arm under his arms.

"Like hell!" Anakin hissed, testing his ankle. Nope, definitely broken. "Shit!"

Anakin felt Chris tense before he heard the footsteps. He conjured an energy ball. But instead of another wraith, the footsteps belonged to Piper Halliwell.

"Mom." Anakin let out a breath of relief.

Piper was covered in dust and demon guts. She had a nasty cut across her forehead and one of her eyes was swollen shut. She was favoring her left leg, but she was alive. Anakin could not help but grin.

"Sweetie! Pumpkin!" Her voice was hoarse and Anakin saw why. An angry red hand-shaped wound covered her neck.

Chris helped Anakin hop over to a corner. The three of them sunk to the floor, exhausted. Anakin leaned over and healed his mother's more serious injuries. He couldn't waste energy on healing everything.

Piper gave him a thankful smile. "They're powerful, but I managed to kill two."

Right, Anakin reminded himself. They were in the middle of an intense battle. "Athame?"

Piper nodded.

"Magic doesn't work. They have to be killed with weapons."

Chris added his agreement. "The potions didn't even faze them. Wyatt was holding his own with Excalibur, but we're drastically outnumbered."

"And Lucien?" Anakin asked.

Chris shrugged. "He was in the basement when the attack started. And he didn't come up with Wyatt."

Anakin shut his eyes and counted backwards from five. He would be of no help to anyone if he was seized with fear. Five…Lucien would be fine…four…they would survive…three…this was their home turf…two…the wraiths were not invincible…one. He opened his eyes.

"Wyatt's defending Jonathan?" He was trying to form a plan.

He looked at his mom and then Chris. Both avoided his gaze. "What? What happened?"

"Jonathan was messed up when he arrived, Annie."

"They wouldn't have killed him. They need his power." Then a light bulb went on. The stone—they had not been keeping him away. They had needed a test subject. "Of course!"

"Anakin?"

Anakin looked at his mom. "They needed to draw him out, so they threatened Lucien. They needed us distracted so they made it look like they're closing in. They used that stone on me to test it. They've been playing us!"

"Sweetie? What are you talking about?"

Anakin took several quick breaths and shoved himself to his feet. His ankle throbbed and the jolting pain nearly sent him over the edge, but he steeled himself. "We have to get Jonathan out of here. They can't capture his power."

He started toward the stairs, determination in his eyes. But the pain grew to be too much. He stumbled, but Chris was there to catch him. Anakin looked at his brother, silently pleading. He held his breath when Chris closed his eyes.

"Ok, but we need a plan, Annie," Chris whispered. "These are not the demons you go in guns blazing and no idea what to do next."

"Right," Anakin said thoughtfully.

"Your brother is down there," Piper reminded the two of them. "We need a rescue-and-run sort of plan."

Anakin nearly toppled over when Chris turned around. He caught himself awkwardly on his ankle. "DAMN IT!"

Chris glanced sheepishly at Anakin. "Sorry." He faced their mother. "We can't let them capture the Manor. They're after Jonathan's magic. Imagine what they could do if they captured the Nexus."

Anakin intervened before their mother blew a gasket. "Why don't we use the Nexus? Let it vanquish the wraiths."

"No."

"Mo—" Anakin started, but fell silent.

Piper continued to shake her head. "Absolutely not. That thing is dangerous. We go down and rescue Wyatt and Jonathan. Then if we are still outnumbered, we run."

Anakin was about to respond when a body came flying up the staircase. Readying himself to attack whatever came charging up the stairs after its victim, he conjured a gun. Not his family's usual weapon choice, but he knew with his lack of mobility it was his best chance of stopping any demon that had thrown the person up here.

"It's Luc!" he heard Chris exclaim.

But he did not turn around. He had to stay focused. He could feel the wraith approaching: it was like the air was growing denser. The passageway grew less vibrant and shadows lengthened. Anakin took a breath, causing his lungs to burn. He had not realized it, but the temperature had plummeted; the air was too cold to breathe. Goosebumps sprang up across his skin and he shivered.

"So Anakin, you managed to escape."

Anakin whipped around in search of the owner of the voice. He froze in place when he spotted the demon holding a kitchen knife against his mother's throat.

"You!" he gasped.

Damien chuckled and idly chucked the Halliwell matriarch aside. He waved his hand, sending Chris and Lucien soaring into the wall. They crashed and slumped down, leaving two trails of blood.

Anakin, wide-eyed, raised the gun and fired three shots. The bullets slammed into a shield of yellow and gold light that flared when each bullet made impact. Damien took a step closer and Anakin fired again using the remaining bullets, all of them just as ineffective as the first three. He glanced at his mother, unconscious on the floor.

"Why?" Anakin asked through clenched teeth.

Damien's response was to shrug and pull out a small stone not unlike the ones in the wraiths' lair. "This stone, as I'm sure you are aware, can strip any magical being of their power. It takes about half an hour with the most powerful. But what you probably have only begun to guess about is its other uses. Once a being's magic is trapped, once all of their magic is trapped inside, they die. And with that death, the power can then be released into another vessel."

Anakin watched Damien slyly grin. "It was such a pity. Master did not allow me to remove all of your power. Even if he did not want it... Imagine a wraith empowered with the culmination of a millennia of good magic's work."

Damien fell silent and Anakin followed the demon's eyes. "So you were able to vanquish Malphas. Amon will be most pleased. He was growing tired of the others teasing him about letting you escape. But you proved yourself against yet another of my lieutenants. It's impressive."

Anakin's jaw dropped. "Wait! You're—you're their leader?"

Damien circled to the attic stairs and sat down, smiling. "Humans are always so dense. Do you really think Master would trust anyone else near you? Of course I'm their leader. Hellequin's only general. The BEAST! But my name, the name given to me by my mortal mother is Damien Caleb. Damien, the son of Lucifer. The rightful ruler of Hell!"

"But—you but…" Anakin struggled to form a thought. The cold was seeping into his very core; he was struggling to not shiver uncontrollably.

Damien leaned back, the stone still gripped in his hand. "I was sent to watch you and to sow seeds of doubt. Provide alternative paths. Tempt you."

"You were sent to seduce me?" Anakin said disgusted.

Damien replied with a shrug. "Did Malphas break your ankle, or was that from your fall down the stairs?"

At the mention of his ankle Anakin felt the spell, but it was too late. The pain flared up from his ankle and engulfed his entire lower leg. He screamed in agony, lost his balance, and fell forward. When he looked up he found himself lying neatly at Damien's feet.

"Sorry about the spell," Damien said, although he did not sound remotely sincere. "I suppose a good-natured kick would have accomplished the same effect."

Anakin rolled onto his back. "F—you."

Before he could sit up, Damien attacked. A kick to his good shoulder shattered bone. The next kick was to his stomach, and then to his ribs. He curled into a ball, coughing, but the attack did not stop. Damien continued to break ribs and rupture internal organs until one kick caught Anakin on the back of the neck and he went limp.

"ENOUGH!" snapped a deep voice.

Damien stood up straight. "About time you arrived, Owain."

Owain straightened his suit jacket. "I informed you that I was busy. Are all of them out of commission?"

Damien gave him a short nod. "Jonathan is tied up in the sunroom, and Wyatt is unconscious on the kitchen floor. We have wards in place to keep the rest of them from entering the Manor."

"Miley was concerned you were actually falling for the witch," Owain commented as he bent down.

He shoved Anakin onto his back. He held a finger over Anakin neck and nodded. "Get Phenex to heal his lungs. I am not done with punishing the Warren line."

"As you wish," Damien snarled and vanished.

Owain straightened up, walked over to Piper, and checked her pulse. He repeated the process with Chris and Lucien. As he stood up, a thin woman dressed in a leather one-piece that left little to the imagination appeared at his side.

"Damien informed me that you requested my aid," Phenex said with a bow.

Owain nodded his head in Anakin's direction. "Keep him alive. The rest will survive until Wyatt can heal them. Do not leave any magical traces."

"As you wish, Lord Glyndwr." She bowed again.

Owain left the unconscious witches under Phenex's watch. He made his way to the sunroom admiring the family portraits on the way. All the Halliwell women stared out at him with the same determined eyes Melinda had. Laughing inwardly, he reached the sunroom.

"Hellequin, what an honor to be in your presence once again," he said jovially.

Jonathan looked up at him through swollen eyes. His face was caked in semi-dried blood, but the swan tattoo, the symbol of the Fallen, flared to life burning away the blood.

Owain chuckled. "I would not expect a warm welcome, but that is no reason to be rude."

"Go to hell," Jonathan wheezed.

The wraith standing guard, Amon, slapped the vampire hard, drawing more blood.

"There is no need for that, Amon. Did the stones work as well as Damien had hoped?"

Amon nodded. "Anakin lost almost all his magic. It took longer than expected, though. He told me to start the process." He pulled out a small round ruby. "Damien thought it would be fitting to use red."

"Hand it here." Owain held out his hand, watching Jonathan follow the exchange with fearful eyes. "You may leave."

Amon bowed and left for the kitchen.

"I will never understand why you did not pick him as your general, Hellequin. He is so much more well-equipped to be a leader than that half-blood."

Jonathan glared his response.

Owain placed the stone on the coffee table. "Now, Hellequin, I have a proposition for you. This stone, as you heard, drains magic out of a person. And I will allow it to finish its task unless you tell me to not allow that. You ruled at my side once before. We were friends once. Why not go back to that?"

"Hellequin died," Jonathan spat.

"That is not entirely true. If he had died, I would not be here, Jonathan," Owain whispered. "Rather, it is you who died, and he is keeping you alive in his body. For reasons of his own, Hellequin felt it necessary to keep you alive."

Jonathan pulled at the cords holding him in the chair. They bit into his skin, showing no sign of breaking. "I'll never join you."

"I'm not asking you," Owain hissed. "The offer is for Hellequin and Hellequin only. Your blood has already been promised to Damien."

That was when it happened. Jonathan felt a sharp ripping sensation. It was like thousands of tiny tentacles were pulling themselves out of his pores. He screamed, but no sound came out. He forced himself to open his eyes but was blinded by a bright white light. The ripping barely stopped before a new sensation began. Unbelievable pressure pressed in from all sides; it crushed his lungs and snapped bones. His body twisted and his head slammed against something hard.

Jonathan lay still for a moment and then opened one eye. He was staring up at a shocked Owain. He scuttled away from the demon only to bump into a chair. When he looked at the chair, his throat clenched.

Sitting in the chair was himself, bruised and battered.

He watched in shock as the body came to.

"Owain," the person, who Jonathan could only guess was Hellequin, gasped.

He looked over at Owain. The demon snapped out of his shock and smiled. "So my theory was true."

"Damien must never get his blood," Hellequin choked out, breathless.

Owain only shook his head.

"Please," Hellequin sounded desperate. "Please, promise me."

"No, Hellequin." Owain licked his lips. "I cannot break my promise. Damien gave me command of the wraiths in turn for Jonathan's blood."

Hellequin raised his hand and the stone flew from the table into his palm. The broken Power That Be squeezed and crushed the stone into powder.

Owain's eyes widened. "Y-you—you c-c-can't."

"I just did." Hellequin gave Owain a half smile. "You want my power. You have to promise."

Jonathan looked at Hellequin. "No."

Hellequin looked down at Jonathan. "They can still stop us, but your magic must never be embodied by an evil being."

Owain stood up. "Hellequin, we must leave. The Halliwells awaken."

Hellequin nodded. "I know, Owain."

There was a bright flash and Jonathan found himself alone in a room. But not just any room, the Halliwells' sunroom! He looked around and frowned. How had he gotten here?


	9. Christmas Parties

Christmas Parties

"Mom needs to take a chill pill," Anakin loudly complained.

Wyatt lowered his hand and the warm gold glow faded. He stared pointedly at his brother.

"This is your third healing session and I still didn't get it all. Whoever you fought did a major number on you."

Rolling his eyes, Anakin stood up. "Thanks, but I feel fine. No more bruises. No pain."

"I know that. I healed you." Wyatt also stood up. Reaching out, he caught a retreating Anakin by the shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you're better. It's been a week, and yet you're still struggling with basic telekinetic maneuvers."

The younger Halliwell glowered at his older brother. It had been finals week, of course he was not fully recovered. He had barely gotten more than eight hours of sleep over the last week.

"Want me to prove that I'm fine?"

"You'd have thought that dad's stubborn gene would have missed at least one of us," muttered Wyatt.

Struggling to not yell at his irate brother, he simply waited until their eyes met before answering. "That's smart. You're not well, but you're going to prove you're well by making yourself even more unwell. Great plan."

Anakin bit his tongue; shouting would get him nowhere.

"When's my next session?" he asked, unable to keep all his frustration out of his tone.

"I've got that daddy-son party thing tomorrow until one."

"I'll be here at one-thirty," Anakin said curtly, then orbed away.

Wyatt dropped his head into his hands and quietly screamed. Why could Chris not be the one in charge of Anakin's healing? After all, it was not like Chris lacked the ability to heal anymore, and he was far more knowledgeable when it came to whole biology. Instead, it had been left up to him to get their baby brother to follow through with his deal with their mother: eight healing sessions.

Sighing, he reasoned it could be worse. Anakin could have been too far gone for the healing to have worked in the first place. To be sapped of magic to the very core twice in one day is very, very draining. It was a miracle the only thing still wrong with his brother was the lack of telekinetic control.

Zach came waddling into the living room, pulling behind him a wagon full of action figures.

"Hey, little man," Wyatt called.

"Dada!" Zach said energetically. "Ana?"

Wyatt smiled. "Uncle Annie had to go, but he promised to visit you tomorrow. Ok?"

Zach clapped his small hands, causing his dad to grin even wider.

"Pay wit me, Dada."

Wyatt checked his watch. He had a class soon, and he had not even prepared notes yet. But his kid was more important than a classroom of thirty obnoxious teenagers. Most of them would not even pay attention anyway.

"Sure, little man."

Wyatt slid off the couch and patted on the ground. Zach ran over with his wagon and sat down, overjoyed that he finally had a playmate.

Anakin orbed back to his room in the Manor. It was cluttered with boxes. After the attack and rescue of Jonathan, his mother had asked that he move back. While he did not see the point of the healing session, his encounters with wraiths had sobered him. Without his Book he no longer felt safe living so far away from the Manor. If evil could just about destroy them here, they stood little chance fending for themselves as spread out as they were. He had heard that everyone was moving back to San Francisco, at least until the pressure was over.

School could wait; this was far more important.

But just because he understood the necessity of it did not mean he could accept it flat out. Living back under his parents' rules drove him up the wall. He could just imagine his mother jumping in victory; she had succeeded in keeping her baby in the nest.

Still, it was the holidays, and he was not going to let himself ruin the season.

"MOM!" he called, opening his door. "I'm back."

Piper appeared around the corner. "Your brother orbed over the last of your stuff while you were at Wyatt's."

"I can see that," he said, glancing back into his room. "Mind helping me unpack later?"

Piper arched an eyebrow. "Later?"

Anakin nodded, closing his door. "I have that training session with Jonathan in a few minutes."

Piper crossed her arms, her eyes full of concern. "I still don't think it's a good idea."

Anakin walked over to his mother and placed a placating hand on her shoulder. "I know, Mom. But I've bested both of my brothers during their sneak attacks and Jonathan has fought those wraiths more times than we have. We need to prepare for another attack. That means training."

"Doesn't mean it has to be with _him_."

Anakin dropped his hand. Protective as always. "He invited you all to join."

Piper reluctantly gave in. "Fine, but promise me you won't exhaust yourself."

Anakin had to fight not to just roll his eyes and orb out. "Relax, Mom, I know what I'm doing. And besides, we're practicing sword fighting; no magic involved." He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be home for lunch." With that, he orbed away.

He rematerialized in a lavishly-decorated apartment. Anakin smirked. "Didn't know you were an interior decorator."

Jonathan looked up from the newspaper he was reading. "This is Lucien's uncle's place when he visits the city."

"Oh," Anakin mouthed as he took a seat. "Why aren't you staying with Luc in Baltimore?"

Jonathan folded the newspaper and tucked it neatly underneath the fruit basket in the middle of the circular table. "Because my brother asked me not to. I think he is still coming to terms with how close you all came to dying. And I know he is blaming me for the incident."

"He's sulking, then," Anakin concluded. Although he accepted Jonathan's argument, it still struck him as odd that Lucien, who had spent years looking for his brother, would suddenly want to be on the coast opposite him.

Jonathan pressed his lips together in thought. "He will get over it in time. But what surprises me is that you are so eager to befriend me."

Anakin considered the comment. It was unlike him to let bygones be bygones so easily, especially when said bygones were not minor. Jonathan had tried to kill his family, but he knew that demon was gone, vanquished with the Source. But there were still plenty of other things he should be pissed at Jonathan for. Yet he found himself completely fine with the man.

"Have you figured out exactly what you are?"

The twenty-four-year-old gave another half-committed shrug. "As far as I can tell, I'm half-vampire, half-elemental. No trace of Hellequin or the Source at all."

Anakin eyed the man sitting across from him. It was easy to see the similarities between Lucien and Jonathan now that he was not the Source of All Evil. Their eyes especially gave it away: they had the same warm brown eyes. That was probably why he held no ill feelings toward the vampire, he reasoned.

"So how are you planning to train me for my next encounter with a wraith?"

Jonathan gestured for Anakin to follow him and stood up. He walked over to a wall in the kitchen. He gently ran hand across the middle tile. The wall gave a shudder and was swallowed by the floor. Anakin stared at the scene in awe.

"Oh." Jonathan smirked. "Did I forget to mention that the apartment used to belong to my mother?"

"Your mother?" Anakin asked, regaining his senses.

Jonathan stepped over the threshold. "She sold it to her brother-in-law just after her marriage. But before her marriage, this place was the meeting place for the largest Elemental coven in California."

"Does Lucien's uncle know about the secret wall in his kitchen?" Anakin asked as he stepped into the secret room.

Jonathan flipped on a light switch to reveal a fairly spacious area. "He is not a magical being, so I doubt it."

Anakin only half listened to Jonathan's answer. He was more occupied in taking in the room. It was set up for clearly one purpose: training new elementals. One corner housed a small patch of soil with a dead tree in the middle. Another had a fountain that spurted out a mist every few seconds. An alcove across from the entrance held equipment Anakin had only seen before on a fire engine. The rest of the room consisted of what Anakin could only describe as a dancing studio.

"I found this room two days ago and have been testing out the wards and such. Most were still operational. I patched up the few that were degraded and added a couple of my own design." Jonathan walked into the middle holding his hands up in a gesture of display. "The room is constructed and protected in such a way that I am doubtful my neighbors would feel a tremor if Wyatt and I went at each other in here."

Anakin finished taking in the room. "It's impressive, Jonathan."

Jonathan sat down on the floor. Anakin followed suit.

"As you discovered last week, wraiths are all but impervious to magical powers. Elemental magic seems to have more of an effect on them, but they are still well protected. Potions are useless. All the spells I've used have proven to be ineffective. They are powerful, but they do have a weakness: physical injury. At least, while they are in their solid forms."

Anakin frowned, worried. "And when they're shadows?"

"In that form, I have not found a way to kill them. Pure light can keep them at bay."

"Pure light? You mean sunlight?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No, sunlight doesn't faze them. Only whitelighter orbs."

So they were more screwed than he had thought. When he had killed that wraith in the attic he thought they had found the weakness. But instead, he gets told that they have a way to escape even that slim advantage.

Anakin shook away the depressive thoughts. "Who taught you how to fight with a sword?"

"You probably don't remember him, but you met him once." Jonathan smiled slyly. "Of course, in the end, I never got to test myself against Excalibur. See, I got this crazy idea in my head that I could go back in time and become the Source of All Evil before my father did."

Anakin shut his eyes; those were memories he did not want to revisit. He pushed on. "So are we going to fight or not?"

Jonathan stood up, and as he did so, a glass cabinet emerged out of the ground. The vampire opened the case and selected a sword with runes carved into its hilt. Giving the sword an approving look, he tossed it at Anakin.

Anakin caught the blade, barely. _Wow, those edges look sharp_.

"Wraiths know their weakness," Jonathan lectured, circling the cabinet. "They prefer to minimize their exposure."

The vampire spun around and threw a fireball at the unsuspecting Anakin.

Anakin tried to orb out but something rooted him. He waved his hand and the fireball altered course. Maybe this was not such a good idea.

"What the hell!"

Jonathan selected a short sword. "No magic, Anakin."

That was all the warning he received. He backpedaled across the room as Jonathan rushed him, then swung his sword desperately hoping to catch a glancing blow. He wished he had not even tried. His sword connected with Jonathan's and a large amount of force transferred from the blade up his arm, nearly dislocating it.

Anakin watched as Jonathan spun out and around to attack from the left. He moved his sword to block, grabbing the hilt with both hands; it was lucky he did. He barely kept the vampire's sword from smashing his own into his face. As it was, he was forced to the ground.

Even that did not stop Jonathan's advance. Anakin rolled to his left to dodge another blow. He then flipped himself back onto his feet like his Aunt Phoebe had taught him and then went on the offensive.

He swept his sword down, aiming for Jonathan's legs. The vampire leapt over the sword and landed gracefully behind him. The witch spun around in time to block the blade aimed at his neck. But nothing prepared him for the solid punch to his gut. Anakin doubled over in shock and pain.

"Impressive. Considering you lack any training, you held your own nicely," Jonathan said, collecting Anakin's fallen sword.

Anakin forced himself to stand up straight. "Sword."

Jonathan handed it back and brought his own to bear. Anakin took a deep breath and pushed away any thought of the lingering pain. He sized up his opponent's defensive stance and rushed forward. He brought his sword down hard, aiming for a shoulder, but Jonathan easily deflected the attack. So he spun and drove his sword for the other shoulder.

Anakin was not surprised when Jonathan easily parried his attack, but he was getting frustrated. He charged in closer, deflecting the vampire's attempt to keep him at bay and elbowed Jonathan in the face.

Jonathan stumbled backwards, blood flowing freely down his face. He took a ragged breath and swung his sword around to deflect Anakin's follow-up. Then he sprang into full motion, batting Anakin's sword away and driving the teen into the wall. Once he had Anakin cornered he disarmed him with a flick of his wrist.

Anakin felt his sword get ripped from his grip and knew that the session was over. Cool metal pressed against his throat, and he could not help but gulp. Maybe he had gone too far with the elbow in the face.

Relief washed through him when Jonathan lowered his weapon.

"Very good, Anakin," Jonathan said with a smile.

Anakin let his hands drop to his side and completely relaxed his muscles. "Sorry about the nose."

Jonathan cocked an eyebrow. "Why? It was a very clever move. And it'll heal in a few moments."

Anakin steadied his breathing and wiped the sweat off his brow. It had felt amazing to fight like that. To be so in touch with everything around him that he could almost anticipate what was going to happen next.

"When can we meet again?" he asked, eager to try again.

Jonathan just smirked. "Just wait until tomorrow, Anakin. You won't be so ready to take up a sword again."

"That's good, because I can't do tomorrow. Spending the day Christmas shopping with Lucien and then Serena and Prue."

"I promised your father I would present myself to the Elders the day after tomorrow. So if I am not recycled, I will be free on Wednesday."

Anakin nodded. "Ok. Cool. Love to stay and chat, but I promised my mom I'd be back for lunch." He did not wait for a reply and orbed out.

It was way past lunchtime on Tuesday, and Anakin was stuck in a store staring at dresses. He inwardly cried out for someone to kill him.

"What about this one?" Serena asked, walking out of the changing area.

Anakin forced himself to smile. "It looks great, Ser, but so did the last seven."

Serena shook her head. "You can't rush these things, Annie. This dress has to be prefect. It's the first Christmas Eve I'll be spending with your family."

"Yeah, and it's going to be at the _Manor,_ not some stuck-up restaurant," he argued. "There's no need to dress up."

Prue came out of the changing room wearing her third outfit. "Careful, Annie—I manage one of those stuck-up restaurant now."

"I should have never agreed to this." Anakin groaned and buried his head in the sales pile.

Serena circled Prue. "I liked the second top, but those pants are way better." She caught Anakin's eye. "How was the not-date with Lucien this morning?"

Anakin buried his head deeper. Serena had been going on about the three hours he and Lucien had spent walking around the mall together since he had met up with her and his sister.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him free of the clothes. "Come on, Annie, I know there's something going on between the two of you."

And that was exactly why he was not answering her questions.

"I want food," Anakin said, changing the subject.

Prue looked over at Serena and her brother. "Only if you tell us what's up."

Anakin balled his hands into fists. Now even his sister was getting into it. "Fine. Go change and pay. I'll wait outside."

Prue stopped him. "I thought you said this was going to be your Christmas present to me."

"Right, I'll be at the register," Anakin murmured, just happy to get out of the store.

Serena kissed him on the cheek. "Relax, Annie. Smile. It's Christmas."

Anakin's lips twitched as he watched his best friend disappear into the changing rooms. It always amazed him how Serena managed to lift his spirits even when she was the one bugging the hell out of him.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in the noisy food court ready to eat. Anakin played with his orange chicken, waiting for the casual conversation to turn to the topic of his ex-boyfriend. The one he had kissed a week and a half ago.

"Okay." Serena was the one who gathered the nerve to ask him. "What happened last week between you and Luc?"

"Nothing," Anakin answered quickly.

Prue gave him the "x-ray" look. "Nope, not buying it. Try again."

Anakin dropped his fork. This was a part of his life he was supposed to be able to keep to himself. Clearly that was not going to happen.

"Before the attack, Luc and I were in the attic researching," he started slowly, still debating if telling them was the best choice. "And, well, it got a bit emotional. Luc was worried about his brother and what we would decide to do."

Serena interrupted him. "I thought you had already decided to help him."

Anakin nearly lost his nerve and swallowed. They would not let him stop; best to just push on. "We needed my family help us; we were deeper in than either of us had realized up until then.

"I comforted—we got closer. And—well…"

"And what?" Prue sounded exasperated.

Anakin swallowed dryly. Here come the fireworks. "We kissed."

"Wh—"

"Bu—"

Both girls were bug-eyed and staring at him trying to form intelligible questions. Serena clamped her mouth shut and enveloped Anakin in a hug.

Calmer, she let the stiff young man go. "Who kissed who first?"

"Me."

"Did he—you know, kiss back?" Prue prodded.

He nodded, finding it difficult to meet his sister's eyes.

Serena bent down to meet his eyes. "And this is a bad thing, I take it."

"Of course!" Anakin snapped. "We were finally getting comfortable with each other again. We could be friends. And then off I go and kiss him. KISS HIM!" He had been holding it all in for too long. "How do you repair that?"

Serena, having pulled away at Anakin's initial reaction, moved in close. "You know I love you with all my heart, Anakin, but you can be really dense sometimes. He _kissed_ back. Nothing to repair."

Prue, however, spotted the problem. "You're not sure you want to go back to that."

Anakin looked at his sister and nodded. His eyes filled with tears, which he brushed away angrily. "A part of me still loves him, but there is still this nagging thought about what happens if it doesn't work out again."

Serena nibbled her lip. She had heard all about the things Anakin went through when he and Lucien broke up. But she had been on the other side of the world when it had happened. There was a part of her that did not want Anakin to go through something like that again. A larger part, however, reminded her that Anakin had not had a serious relationship since Lucien. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Even if it fell apart, maybe, just maybe, it would give Anakin the closure he needed to find someone new. And if it did work out, then that was even better.

She wanted to say something to that effect, but knowing Anakin, her head would have been chewed off before she could explain herself. The Halliwells tended to work in a very black-and-white world. Either something was right, or something was wrong. No twisting the matter to make it into something good. And she knew Anakin saw a breakup as a bad thing. She was saved from her warring mind by Prue.

"You're stronger than you were back then, Annie. I know I have not shown it, but I do believe that." Prue was choosing her words carefully. "Lucien isn't the same person either. He's—he's a good person. One that I feel lucky to know." She nearly laughed when Anakin's jaw dropped.

"You're—you're on his side!" Anakin, wide-eyed, stared at his sister.

Prue agreed. "When I realized you wouldn't see reason, I decided that I had to give Lucien a chance to defend himself. We've been talking. And I've come to the conclusion that you could do a lot worse. But you're still my baby brother, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Did he tell you about the kiss?" Anakin asked when Prue fell silent. If she had been playing him this entire time... He shook away the thought.

"We're not that close." Prue smirked. "But he did ask my—well, not my permission, but some equivalent. 'Consent' would be a better word. Well anyway, I knew he was going to ask you out."

"He did _what?_" Serena turned on Anakin. She could not contain her shock when he gave her a curt nod. "What did you say?

"Nothing," Anakin said firmly. How could he have answered? He was not sure what he wanted to do. He was surer about quantum physics than on his future with Lucien. "I—it's not something I could answer."

"Wow," Serena murmured, sinking into her seat. "And I nearly missed this to go to New York with my mom."

Anakin laughed. Count on Serena to lighten the mood. He looked over at his sister who was watching him too closely.

"I'm not going to jump off a building, Prue."

Prue jumped. "What?"

"Stop staring at me. It creeps me out."

"Sorry." Prue picked up her soft drink and sucked the last few drops, all the while not looking away from him.

"For God's sake, Prue. STOP!" he barked, gaining a few questioning stares from wary neighbors.

Seeing the situation escalating, Serena distracted him. "Did Luc have a problem with you not giving him an answer?"

Facing Serena, Anakin's face fell. He had been concerned with his own emotional turmoil; he had not considered for a second that Lucien might not take his lack of an answer badly. He was going to give Luc an answer: he just had to clear his head first. Think rationally about it.

"Annie?"

"I don't know. He seemed fine." The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became and less sure of himself. "At least I think he was OK."

"What did you do after he asked?" Serena asked, feeling like she was pulling teeth.

The young witch shrugged, hopeless. "You guys called right around then. And he got a call from some person in L.A. We had an awkward goodbye and then I came to meet you."

So things could have been worse: there was a silver lining. Serena licked her lips, buying time to think of another question. She had to nudge Anakin toward the truth, whatever it was.

Again, Prue came to her rescue. "Annie, when I met Kyle, I was terrified."

Anakin interrupted her. He knew where she was going with the story. "This isn't nervous jitters. I know Luc. I know I love him and he loves me. I think we could make it work. But there is a big possibility it won't. And, yes, I'm worried about what I'll do; it scares me to death. But there's also the fact that I'll lose him as a friend as well. I don't think a friendship can survive two failed—"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, dude, but I don't think friendship is much of an option," Serena said bluntly. "You're both attracted to each other and told each other as much. There's no going back. Either you become an item, or the friendship fizzles out because of the hurt feelings."

_Damn it, Serena! _He thought, annoyed. _Let me dream_.

Serena smirked when Anakin's eyes darkened. "I know it sucks, but that is the truth. And if you want my opinion, I think you should go for it. You guys were so cute in school. Everyone could see you guys cared deeply about each other."

Anakin closed his eyes. Did the world suddenly forget that he had tried to kill himself when he and Luc had broken up? Sure he was overjoyed that Prue and Lucien were getting along, but he had been hoping she would argue against them dating. Serena was rooting for them to hook up; he had known that. He needed to be able to weigh the pros and cons. With his own mind racing, he had hoped that eventually he would be able to use Serena and Prue to bounce ideas off of. Instead he had told them everything before he was ready, and they were both pushing him to try it.

"He could realize it is a bad idea," he finally said, but failed to even convince himself of that possibility.

The group fell into silence. Anakin stirred the remainder of his drink, pondering his predicament. Everything he had said was true, but if he was truly honest with himself the one thing holding him back was fear. Not fear for himself, but for his family and what he might put them through. He also had to admit that he always imagined them getting back together someday. A smile pulled on his lips.

Prue caught the small smile. "What you smiling at?"

Anakin hesitated. Saying it aloud would solidify his thought. _What the hell? We may not survive this battle to have anything happen. _

"Luc and I do make a good couple." As he spoke the smile grew into a grin.

Serena squealed in delight and wrapped him in another lung-crushing hug.

"Ser, need—air," he joked.

Prue was more subdued in her excitement. "Take things slow, Annie."

Serena glanced over at the overprotective sister and caught the faintest hint of worry behind the loving eyes. "Sweetie, don't worry, Annie's a big boy now."

"Yeah, Prue." Anakin smirked at his sister. "I'm a big boy now."

Prue flashed them a smile. "I guess so."

Never one to dwell on the serious, Serena turned back to Anakin. "So you need to do some shopping."

Anakin groaned as both young women started planning out the rest of his day.

Anakin sat at Jonathan's kitchen table, drumming his fingers impatiently. It was Wednesday and he still had not actually spoken to Lucien. They had kept missing each other on the phone, and neither had had enough time to visit the other. Plans were up in the air, and he still had not gotten a good read on the situation. One moment he was certain that Lucien was overjoyed and the missed calls were just coincidence, the next he was petrified that Lucien was annoyed and purposely ignoring his calls. How many times could two people not get hold of the other before bad luck was no longer a valid excuse?

So, as promised, he had arrived at Jonathan's apartment on Wednesday, two days before Christmas. His muscles still ached with pain, but it was no worse than the time he had tried to prove he could beat Wyatt lifting weights. He was ready to start training; the news from the magical community was not good. He wanted to be prepared. Instead, Jonathan had greeted him at the door and then told him to sit at the kitchen table, then vanished. That had been half an hour ago.

Jonathan reappeared in a shimmer of air and heat. "Sorry, but I promised your father I would demonstrate elemental magic for his Advanced Theory class."

"Oh." Anakin said blandly.

Jonathan gave him a quizzical look. "Are you still sore?"

Realizing Jonathan would not appreciate attitude no matter how much he deserved it, Anakin shrugged. "Not used to fighting physically, but Aunt Phoebe taught us all in basic self-defense. I'm not as out-of-shape as you may think."

"I'll admit you were far more formidable than I had anticipated." Jonathan dipped his head.

Jonathan had noticed Anakin's coolness but ignored it. It probably stemmed from something to do with his brother and his tardiness gave Anakin a catalyst for his frustrations. He was not ready to step into that minefield quite yet.

"One good thing that came out of my meeting with the Elders…"

"Besides their declaration of your innocence?" Anakin forced himself to smile.

Jonathan returned the smile. "Besides that. I was granted access to manuscripts detailing the last time magic battled wraiths."

"They have records going that far back?" Anakin said, taken aback. He knew the Elders were obsessive when it came to record keeping, but he had assumed that had evolved through the ages. Nothing better to do Up There but write down everything that went on down here.

"Fragments," Jonathan corrected. "In an archaic language none of them fully understand."

Anakin sagged. "They're useless then. Why…"

Jonathan smiled. "It seems I discovered something of Hellequin that stayed behind. I struggled but have been able to get the gist of the fragments. Big battles. Lots of death. And tons of suffering. Light magic won, but only by a hair. The Powers That Be were decimated and most retreated to their home realm. Six remained behind: three of the Fallen, who had eluded capture, and three Powers left to protect the Earth should one of the Fallen decide to take up arms. We know of five of the Powers: Brendan, Hellequin, Gabriel, Benjamin or rather Raphael, and our new Source – Aeglaeca. The final 'good guy,' Michael, Raphael speculates left Earth sometime before the turn of the last century. He never heeded any of Gabriel's calls."

Anakin stifled a yawn. "Great history lesson, Jonathan."

"Don't rush this. Only another Power can destroy a Power That Be."

"Which means we're screwed. No way in Hell could Benjamin take on Hellequin and the Source," Anakin interrupted.

"I don't think the rules apply anymore," Jonathan whispered. "You and Wyatt nearly equal a Power in terms of magical ability. And with Excalibur—well, let's just say there was a reason that even with Hellequin's blood flowing through me I could not defeat you.

"And from what I could get Benjamin to disclose, the reason for a Power That Be's invincibility is similar to the protections that make wraiths nearly impossible to kill," said Jonathan.

"Okay, so we're slightly less screwed."

Jonathan shook his head. "We can have a plan in place, take them by surprise, and this could all be over."

"No, we go on the offensive and we get screwed," Anakin argued. "We have enough to worry about without taking on the Source on his own turf."

Jonathan shrugged. "You're the expert on this." Jonathan pulled out a scrap of yellowed parchment from his pocket. "I also stole this spell."

"What does it do?" Anakin's interest peaked. Anything Jonathan thought worth stealing from the Elders must be good.

"It's an enchantment." Jonathan handed him the parchment.

Anakin stared at it but it looked like tiny pictures to him, very tiny faded pictures. "Um…"

"I'm still working on the actual translation; some of the words don't have exact counterparts in English. But I believe it is very similar to the spell placed on Excalibur."

Anakin's eyes narrowed, skeptical. "We can make more Excaliburs?"

"No, that magic was performed by Gabriel, and he never wrote it down. But this is a spell in the same line as that enchantment. It's weaker and more superficial. The magic would not be a part of the sword, but rather it would allow the sword's wielder to imbue the sword with his own magic."

It went over Anakin's head. "Come again?"

Jonathan bit his tongue. "Excalibur has magic encased in its metal. It is what allows it to break through so many magical protections. Vanquish demons that otherwise would only have lost a limb temporarily. But Excalibur also gives its wielder a magical boost, so that even someone like Arthur, who was not a witch, could perform magic. This spell requires the wielder to pour magic into the sword."

"Turns a vibroblade into a lightsaber," Anakin summarized.

"_Star Wars_?" Jonathan arched an eyebrow.

Anakin nodded. "Whatever! So would this help with wraiths?"

"I would think so. Most of the army in the first war carried these enchanted weapons."

_Enchanted weapons. What was this, a medieval freak show?_ Anakin wondered.

Jonathan stood up. "Right, enough history lessons. Ready to practice?"

"Yes!" Anakin jumped to his feet.

Jonathan opened the secret door. "I hope it is OK, but I asked my brother to train with you today."

Anakin froze for split second. "Luc is here?"

"He'll be here shortly. I told him I'd have to explain to you some of the things I had discovered," Jonathan continued conversationally.

Anakin followed the half-vampire into the training room. "He tell you about our date?"

_Damn it!_ Jonathan drew his shoulders back. "He might have mentioned it, yes."

Eager for answers, Anakin missed Jonathan's apprehension. "And?"

"And that is between the two of you, Anakin." Jonathan ended the conversation. "Same sword as last time?"

"Yeah, fine." Anakin deflated.

Jonathan handed him his sword. "Don't worry so much. He's just as nervous as you are."

Anakin opened his mouth to reply when Lucien walked through the entrance.

"Annie!" Luc gave him a big smile. "Ready to teach me some new tricks?"

Anakin's hold on the pommel tightened as apprehension gripped his throat.

Jonathan broke the tension. "Since both of you showed some promise with a blade last time, I suggest that you start using magic as well."

"Jon? I need a sword." Lucien held out his hand.

"No hello?" Jonathan smirked, handing Lucien the blade he had used the last time Anakin had practiced with him.

Lucien tested the blade with a few practiced strokes. "Let's get started, then."

Anakin faced Lucien. He did not seem annoyed, but he knew he could be reading his hopes into the situation. He positioned his feet to give himself the greatest amount of balance without losing any movement. Taking a readying breath, he focused on the battle before him, not allowing other thoughts to seep through.

Jonathan watched as the two friends sized each other up. It was clear to him that both had trained together before and had a high level of respect for what the other was capable of. Neither wanted to make the first move: it could prove the fatal move. But even as they circled, Jonathan could see how Anakin appeared to be more in control and calculated. Fighting was a part of his life; being a Charmed Son would do that to a person.

His brother made the first move: a sharp lunge for Anakin's torso. The blond easily batted the attack aside and swung his own attack at Lucien's neck. Jonathan smiled as Lucien faded in and out, imitating the smoking move he had seen many of the wraiths use to escape a blow. What did surprise him was how quickly Anakin recognized the move and threw a punch that caught Lucien on the face as he was reforming.

The elemental stumbled to the ground as shocked as Jonathan was. The moment lasted only a second as Anakin moved forward to end the practice round. Lucien rolled to his left, collecting his blade as he did so. An impressive display of acrobatic skill had him back on his feet and ready to parry Anakin's strike.

The clang of metal echoed mercilessly through the room as both combatants took turns being the offense. Despite the initial edge Jonathan had seen in Anakin's experience, Lucien held his own superbly well. They complemented each other almost perfectly; for every attack, the other had a defense. Maybe he had underestimated how much the two knew about swordplay. Their form lacked the finesse of lifelong training, but they knew their basics.

Then Lucien attacked with a gust of wind that caused Anakin to stumble. The witch, breathing heavily, formed a protective covering with a subtle wave of his free hand. Jonathan felt the ward seal itself and saw Lucien's attack become moot: not a hair on Anakin's head budged. He glanced over at his brother in time to catch a shimmer of surprise on the boy's face. It was a new trick, good.

Anakin charged forward and ploughed into Lucien. He pinned the elemental to the ground and unceremoniously placed an athame against Lucien's neck.

"Give in?"

Lucien smirked. "I've got a trick or two."

Jonathan had to duck as a stream of electricity burst out of a light bulb, throwing the room into darkness. The bolt of energy threw Anakin off his brother and Lucien scrambled to his feet. He walked over to the collapsed witch and bent down.

"Draw?"

Jonathan did not hear Anakin's answer, but from the hand Lucien offered he guessed it was one of acceptance.

"Impressed, bro?" Lucien asked cockily.

The half-vampire smirked. "You still have to beat me."

Anakin held his hand over Lucien's face, healing the cut his punch had caused. "I think that is enough fighting for one day," he said between gasping breaths.

Jonathan gave his consent. "I knew both of you would be more than up to the challenge. You lack some style, but you get the job done. Yes, I am impressed." He caught the glance the two tired young men shared. He cleared his throat; they couldn't drift off into their world just yet. "Anakin, do you think Chris could make sense of the spell?"

"To make mini Excaliburs?" Anakin shrugged. "Worth a shot. If you can translate as much as you can into English."

He thoughtfully nodded. "I'll need half an hour or so."

Anakin checked his watch. It could give him time to talk to Lucien. "I can spare an hour. Wyatt told Zach I'd come visit him."

Jonathan looked at his brother who gave him a very clear but subtle sign to leave. "I'll be back."

Anakin watched Jonathan stride out of the room; every step increased his anxiety. He wanted this, but it did not make it any less daunting. He looked at Lucien, who also had his eyes transfixed on Jonathan's departure. It made him feel a bit better that he was not the only one with butterflies.

"So…"

Lucien snapped back to Earth. "Yeah. Great fight."

_Small talk_? "I guess so. Although, I have to admit, it's more cathartic to try to kill your brother."

A smile pulled at Lucien's mouth. His fears about what the next topic would be eased slightly. They were friends, friends who wanted more. Or at least he wanted more. He knew Anakin well enough to know that his friend was still battling with himself. That had been the reason he had been "missing" his calls. He did not want to pressure Anakin into anything.

Anakin debated his options: small talk or straight talk. He chose the latter. "I left you a message earlier."

"I know." Lucien held his breath. Everything was going to be OK—he hoped. "Sorry, I forgot my phone, and then I knew you'd be here."

Had the two brothers planned this? "Well, it wasn't that important. My mom wanted to know if you were going to spend Christmas at the Manor."

"She's sweet, but Jonathan and I were planning to spend the day with my uncle. Allow them to get to know each other, you know." Lucien shifted uncomfortably.

Anakin played with his finger. "Oh? Well, if you want to come over for just a bit, it's going to be a small Christmas. Paige and Henry are taking their family to Jamaica after the gift exchange and Phoebe, Coop, and the girls are heading out to visit some couple Coop helped bring together."

"What about Jon?"

He frowned. Resentment for the ex-Source still ran high in his family. None of them were comfortable with him coming over and training. But they would have to get over it some time; Jonathan was not a bad guy.

"He's welcome, too."

"Thanks." Lucien smiled. "Do you find it terrible that we've reverted back to the whole awkward stage?"

Anakin shook his head. "Sometimes I think having a history makes the whole thing more difficult." That was true; his hesitations were based on their break-up.

"But you do want to go on a date—right?" Lucien asked, suddenly very unsure of himself.

A heartbeat passed. But Anakin had made his mind up with Prue and Serena. Everything was going to be fine. "Yes."

"Cool." Lucien appeared to step out from under a large burden. "There's this party a friend of a friend is throwing the day after Christmas."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Serena is going to be there," Lucien warned.

"Doesn't matter. She usually walked in on our dinner dates; it'll be like old times."

"And your brothers and sister."

Anakin frowned. "What party is this?"

"Serena's stepbrother's birthday bash."

"Right. I got an invitation to that…"

"You want to go somewhere else?"

Anakin thought about it. Having everyone around could help or hurt. But he did want to see Chris and Serena in the same room. The last party had nearly done it. Maybe this would be the one. And they could always leave if his brothers made things too awkward.

"No. I think it's a good plan."

A day was set. The worst was over. Everything was going to be fine.


	10. Burning Up

**WARNING** contains some explicit language...just a tiny bit.

Burning Up

Piper sat at the head of the dining room table. She drummed her fingers on the polished wood, agitated. Huffing, she pushed her chair out and leaned as far back as possible without the chair toppling over. Still, she could see nothing. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and braced herself to push the chair further back. A leg hit the edge of the wooden floor; the sound shot through her soul. Damn it!

Anakin poked his head around the corner. "Mom! For once in your life, relax."

"My sons kicked me out of my kitchen on Christmas!" Piper snapped, blowing a stray hair out of her face. "How am I supposed to relax?"

Anakin smirked. "I hear Dad has a bottle of vodka hidden in the cabinet drawer by Grams' silverware. Make yourself a martini and go watch TV."

Piper glowered at her youngest. This was not what she had planned for the day. "It's 7:30 in the morning."

"Suit yourself, Mom, but you're not cooking today. Breakfast will be ready by the time the rest of the family arrive, and after the gift exchange, Prue will help me make your Christmas ham. And Sarah will make the side dishes with as much help as Wyatt can provide." Anakin spoke sternly but he continued to smile.

"I heard that!" Wyatt snapped from deeper within the kitchen.

There was a loud crash, and Piper jumped to her feet. Anakin glanced back and moved to intercept her.

"Chris has got it, Mom."

God damn it! Piper balled her hands into tight fists; she wanted her kitchen back.

Anakin looked her in the eyes. "I know this is hard, Mom, but with the family all going their separate ways for the first time since Wyatt was born, the next generation believes it is a good year for us to get some practice in. After all, you want this tradition to continue after you're too old to be in the kitchen, right?"

"I'll never be too old," Piper argued.

She knew her kids were trying to be thoughtful, but cooking was what she loved to do. It was her special way of showing her family just how much she cared about them. She had been cooking Christmas dinner since Grams had her heart attack. It was one of the few traditions she kept even after Prue died. She could still remember the first Christmas she, Prue, and Phoebe had spent together after becoming the Charmed Ones. The smell of burnt sweet potato pie still brought a smile to her face.

This year, not only were her sisters not spending Christmas dinner at the Manor, but she had been banished from her kitchen.

Maybe it was for the best. The plan, most likely instigated by her youngest, had ensured that all of her children would be with her for at least one more Christmas. It would not be long before her lovely daughter would have her only family to cook for. Wyatt and Sarah already had Zach. Chris was constantly busy: it was pure luck that he had Christmas off, and Anakin would be off doing his own thing.

The Halliwell matriarch wandered into the conservatory and smiled when she spotted her grandson. Zach sat on the giant blue blanket that had once belonged to his father. At the moment the two-year-old was concentrating on building a castle out of the old wooden blocks Leo had handmade and painted. Piper leaned against the wall and watched as Zach placed the last block on top of the castle and giggled in accomplishment.

Leo snuck up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her. "He's too much like his dad."

Piper leaned back and kissed him. "I hear you hid some secrets from me."

"What?" Leo's face blanched. "No."

Piper laughed. After all these years, he still was able to make her heart beat a little bit faster. "Are you sure about that? Are you sure you don't have a secret—say, like in the dining room?"

She watched in amusement as he tried to figure out exactly what she was talking about and how in trouble he was. She ended his torment and kissed him. "Grams' silverware has a new friend, doesn't it?"

"Oh!" Leo's eyes widened. "How'd you find it?"

"Your son told me." Piper interlocked her fingers with his. "Now, why would you have to hide that?"

The ex-Elder gave her a sheepish look. "Piper, it's nothing. Just something I was—er—what I mean…"

The smile faded from her face. Should she be worried? It had sounded innocent enough. It wasn't like they had an alcohol cabinet. "Leo?"

Leo looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Piper…"

The powerful witch narrowed her eyes. She broke out of Leo's embrace and stormed back into the dining room. She noticed Wyatt, Sarah, Anakin, Chris, Prue, and Kyle all crowded in the doorway connecting the dining room to the kitchen. She ignored them.

"PIPER!" Leo called as he came in after her.

Fuming, she threw up the drawer and gasped. In the drawer lay a large folder with a woman on its cover sunbathing on a beach. She picked up the folder and glanced at Leo.

"This had better not be a joke, Leo."

This elicited a few snickers from the kids. She shot them a glare.

"Sweetie." Leo took her hand. "Merry Christmas."

Piper laughed and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. "I thought you couldn't get away."

Leo looked guilty. "I wanted to surprise you. I know how much you've been wanting to go on a second honeymoon. I was going to plan this around our anniversary, but—"

"But we convinced him you'd enjoy it more now," Prue jumped in, saving her father from making a very big mistake. "You know…" Okay, so coming up with excuses on the spot was not her strong suit.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "It's the down time in all our lives. Nothing could interrupt you while you are on vacation, enjoying yourself."

Piper gave the blond a hard stare, which he easily matched with an innocent smile. Fine, it did not matter. She had been begging Leo to go on a cruise for months; she was not going to let anything spoil this.

"You were all in on this?"

"Dad was the mastermind, but yeah, we all pitched in." Chris gave his mom a smile. "Merry Christmas, Mom."

Piper opened the folder and saw the time. "Today! We leave today! Leo!"

"Relax, Mom," Prue said, stepping in to placate their mother. "Everything is organized."

Piper checked her watch. "There's no time. I need to pack. A-and—and we need to—"

"Piper, sweetie, relax. The boat leaves tonight. The kids will cook, so you'll have all day to pack." Leo kissed her forehead. "And anything you forget can be orbed to us."

"Right, right." Piper took a calming breath. "Tell Paige and Phoebe to come to my room when they get here." She marched off, dragging Leo with her.

Wyatt smirked. "I told you we should have done this last night."

Most of them just ignored him and returned to their various tasks. It was going to be a big Christmas after all.

Anakin retreated to the kitchen after the gift exchange. Nothing against his family, but they could be overwhelming at times. And spending a semester away from the Manor had severely weakened his coping mechanisms for the noise both mental and non-mental. Sometimes being a telepath sucked.

He also wanted a moment to himself. He had to remind himself not to be disappointed; had to fight, actually. Lucien had told him he would be busy, but his heart clearly had not believed the elemental. Christmas was a time for family.

When he heard footsteps, Anakin looked up from washing/cleaning/stacking the dishes.

"What's up?" Henry asked.

The nearly eighteen-year-old high school senior had had yet another growth spurt since the last time Anakin saw him. He now rivaled Wyatt as the tallest in the family. He had also filled out his lanky form, making him resemble a taller, younger twin of his father. Anakin smiled.

"Nothing much. You?"

Henry shrugged. "Same old, same old. School sucks. Parents pestering me to keep my grades up so I can get into a good college. What can you do?"

Anakin reminisced on his final year at high school; not his fondest year. "Wish I could give you some advice, dude, but you just have to stick it out. They become all weepy when they realize they're going to have an empty nest. Give it some time."

"Great advice. Your brothers said the same things." Henry walked over to the fridge. "Mom told me you're dropping out."

"At least for next semester," Anakin said. "Not the best plan, but I think it'd be safer if my brothers and I were close to the Manor. Especially after the Book fiasco."

Henry grabbed a beer from the fridge. He orbed off the top and took a gulp. "Will you go back to the East Coast?"

Anakin waved his hand and Henry's beer appeared in his hand. "If this war between us and the wraiths allows me to. But I've applied for a transfer to UCSF for the fall."

Henry kept his eye on the beer. "Sounds like you've got it planned out. Can I have the beer?"

He considered the question and held the beer out. As long as the adults did not find out, no harm would come from it. "You better not let our moms see you."

The younger Halliwell smirked. "Aside from your brothers, Annie, I'm the best glamorer this side of the Atlantic." Orbs revolved around the beer and the bottle shifted into the shape of a soda can. "Will Lucien be joining you today or is he fraternizing?"

"He's with his family," Anakin said curtly. Henry was not the person he was willing to discuss this particular concern with.

"Pity," Henry muttered between another sip. "He always had interesting stories to tell. Made family get-togethers almost bearable."

Anakin hissed through his teeth. Henry was the one member of the Halliwell clan that despised being a part of the family. With his memories of the alternate timeline, Henry's attitude had caused one too many fights between the two cousins. Given all the things he was dealing with, Anakin was surprised he had not just blown up. Family was everything. Henry was just in the thralls of adolescent rebellion.

Henry crushed the can between his hands. "Thanks for the drink, cos." He started to leave, then paused. "Between you and me, Anakin, what's the likelihood of all of us surviving this war?"

The fear in his younger cousin's eyes threw Anakin for a loop. His anger completely dissolved.

"No good, Henry. These demons are powerful, and they're smart. Never a good combination in an enemy. And the new Source has a personal vendetta against us," Anakin solemnly voiced his concerns. "They've been playing with us until now and each time they've come out on top. I can only imagine how brutal they're going to be when they really want to remove us." He paused and studied his youngest cousin. "Why?"

The witch-whitelighter climbed onto one of the stools. "I got an email yesterday from the Navy. They've accepted my application and want my decision by the first."

Anakin knew it had been Henry's dream to join the Navy and eventually join the criminal investigations branch. Like his father, but different enough to have his own identity.

"Congratulations, man!"

Henry offered him a fake smile. "Mom and Dad don't know yet. Hell, I've not even told my sisters. I just have this feeling: a feeling that something is going to go wrong. Being Charmed has its own responsibilities. Being a brother—I'm supposed to be there to protect them. But I want to join, I—I need my space." He looked at Anakin pleadingly. "I need help. Advice."

"I don't see having your own life as wrong. Besides, I'd be a hypocrite if I told you anything different."

"But you came back."

Anakin held up his hand. Maybe he and Henry were not so different. "I chose to come back. You can't let our family's destiny control your life. Most of us have accepted the responsibility of being 'protectors of the innocent.' But not one of us has done so by compromising our hopes and dreams. Yes, I moved back, but I have the option of putting my schooling on hold. Being an NCIS agent is an excellent goal, and one I don't think anyone would begrudge you in following. I think, in fact, that your family would feel immensely guilty if you passed this opportunity over because you felt it conflicted with your responsibility to them."

"So I should join the Navy?" The black-haired witch frowned, confused. He was expecting Anakin to take the stance of family first. After all, that was what he had been preaching since the other Anakin vanished.

Anakin mused. "Unfortunately, I can't tell you what to do. I can only say that in my experience, our mothers fought long and hard so that we could have lives outside of magic. And I believe we should have a life—a destiny—that is outside magic. I also know that we have unique gifts that allow us to do good in ways few can imagine, and abandoning that destiny would be wrong."

Anakin knew he was probably not making any sense. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. "You want my opinion on if you should go. I can't offer it because I can't answer the question of if your two destinies will conflict or not. The simple answer is, choose a job that allows you to vanish and vanquish demons at a moment's notice. But I never put much thought in taking the easy way out."

He squeezed Henry's shoulder. "And you're not alone in shouldering the responsibility of protecting your family. They're all powerful witches, your dad isn't helpless, and you'd be a fool to think that my brothers or Prue or myself would not jump in to save them. We're a family through thick and thin. We stick together and help each other out."

Henry looked into Anakin's eyes. "What about the government's little witch hunt? I'd be serving the people who, if they found out about me, would cook me at the stake in a split second."

Anakin shrugged. "I think the more people we have in the government the better. They only way to end the witch hunt is to prove to the government that magic is not something to be feared. That the people who practice it are just as much a part of society as anyone else."

The teen let out a heavy sigh. "Life sucks."

Anakin chuckled. "Never said it didn't." He summoned two more beers out of the fridge and handed one to Henry.

Serena sat on one of the large couches in the Halliwells' living room. The Walt Disney Christmas Day Parade was on TV, but she was only partially watching it. Most of her concentration was devoted to covertly watching Christopher. The middle brother was currently seated on another couch actively debating some topic with Sarah. She felt a pang of jealousy for Wyatt's wife but quickly dismissed it.

"You know that you can join in," Anakin commented, taking a seat next to her.

Startled, she felt her cheeks heat up. Caught in the act. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "All the relationship advice you offer me and still you can't see what is right in front of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Of course she could guess what Anakin was suggesting. They were best friends. It would be impossible for him not to have noticed her infatuation with his older brother. They had even broached the subject on occasion, but neither had the nerve to pursue the topic for very long. Too awkward!

"Have you found a date for your brother's birthday bash yet?" Anakin asked innocently.

Serena stole one last glance of Chris. "No, but I'm sure my mother has some lucky young man lined up."

When she had heard that her stepbrother had invited Chris, Wyatt, and Sarah to his birthday party her heart had nearly stopped. He had never shown any particular interest in her friends. In fact, it usually was a fight to get him to invite Anakin. Of course Prue had always been on the guest list; Jace had a thing for her. Then this year he had simply invited the entire family. Serena still had not figured out why.

"Are you going?" She asked, turning the tables on Anakin. It was safer to be the one asking the questions. She saw Anakin's recognition of her tactics.

"Lucien invited me. It'll be our first 'date.'"

Serena pursed her lips. She could not imagine having a first date with Jace being in the same vicinity. And the Halliwells were ten times more protective of their own than Jace was of her. "His idea?"

Anakin smirked. "You think I'd purposely put him in that sort of situation? What kind of person do you think I am?"

She had to smile at that. Throughout their entire relationship, Anakin had purposely acted as a buffer between his overprotective siblings and Lucien. The elemental had told her on numerous occasions how it irked him. She had just found it amusing, because in the end, it was all pointless. Wyatt and Chris fulfilled their perceived roles of Anakin's protectors anyway. And when she had questioned Anakin about it, he'd confessed he wanted a small part of his life to be apart from his family.

"Does Jace know you're going together? He's always been a bit homophobic."

Anakin shrugged. "Your brother invited both of us. I'm sure he was not expecting us to play straight for a night."

That was true. Jace's parties were always date-required events. The few people who did show up dateless quickly realized their mistake and left or hooked up with somebody. The hook ups usually turned into the headliner of the morning newspaper the following day, so the usual attendees brought dates.

"You have a mask?"

The young man gave her a shrug. "He's having another masquerade ball? Wasn't that the year before last?"

"Jace is hardly imaginative. His view is if something works, why change it."

They lapsed into silence. Serena's thoughts drifted back on to the topic of Chris Halliwell. Her crush had developed sometime during freshman year. Chris, of course, was already in college, but that only fueled the fantasy. She had moved past the crush and dated and even loved other boyfriends, but once the relationship ended, she returned to admiring Chris from afar. This past year in particular had brought the whole thing to a whole new level; they had both been single.

Anakin interrupted her thoughts. "I don't think Chris has a date yet."

"Nice to know," she said quickly, cutting off her own imagination. It would not happen. He was so out of her league.

Anakin rolled his eyes. Sometimes even girls could be dense. "And I don't think it's because he's lacking in choices."

Chris looked over. Anakin noticed him eye Serena before looking at him. "Isn't it your turn to baste the ham?"

And then there was Chris who did not give boys a much better reputation in the denseness department. Anakin sighed. "I've got a few more minutes."

"Just checking. Don't need Mom flustered because we messed up."

He was about to respond when his cell phone rang; he picked it up. "This is Anakin." He stood up; it was Lucien. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Moving into the empty sunroom, Anakin listened to Lucien nervously ramble. It brought a smile to his face. "Luc, let me interrupt you for just a second. I'd love to chat, but I have basting duty in a minute. Can I call you back, or is there something you needed to ask?"

He waited; not the most civil way of doing things but he was still a bit miffed at Lucien's rejection to spend Christmas with him. And a part of him was hoping this phone call was about the elemental changing his mind.

And he was right. "Yeah, of course. We're having lunch in a bit and then everyone is leaving. It'll just be my siblings and Serena for dinner." Questions about his acceptance. "Yes, I'm sure. You and Jonathan are always welcome."

A pause and then Lucien declared that Jonathan would not be joining them.

The knot in his stomach relaxed. "Is he sure?"

Anakin had no problem with Jonathan. In fact he would have welcomed it, but the absence of the ex-Source would certainly make dinner a more comfortable affair.

"Alright, tell him I'm sorry he has 'business to attend to.' And I'll see you around five. Bye." He waited for Lucien to say good-bye before ending the call.

His day became that much brighter. It did not even cross his mind to question why he was so anxious to have Lucien spend Christmas with his family. He was the one who needed to take things slow, and yet here he was expecting Lucien to be a part of the family. It did not matter. Whatever his reasons, Lucien was coming over. Anakin looked up to find Wyatt smirking at him.

Anakin watched in fascination as Wyatt wielded Excalibur with pristine precision. And yet, despite the uncanny ability the sacred sword bestowed on his brother, Jonathan still looked bored. The vampire's own blade glowed a feverish red and appeared to repel Excalibur before the blades even met. The blond glanced over at Chris.

"Looks like your spell works."

Chris smirked at his younger brother. Of course the spell had worked! It was their only weapon against the threat to his family. He had made sure the spell worked. Yet watching Wyatt and Jonathan spar made him more nervous to try it out himself. He had wielded Excalibur twice and neither time had led to a good outcome.

He hissed and cringed as Jonathan managed to nip Wyatt's shoulder. "Are you and Lucien doing anything before the party?"

Anakin licked his lips. Tonight was his first official date with Lucien. His stomach knotted up at the thought and still a part of him wanted to be dancing in excitement.

"Nope. We're meeting at the party," he said over the clash of metal. The spell had failed on Jonathan's blade.

Who would voluntarily go on a first date with their older brothers in the same room was beyond Chris, but he was not going to bring it up. He liked Lucien enough. It just gave him an extra layer of comfort that he could shadow the two.

As if reading his mind, Anakin frowned. "So do you have a date yet?"

Chris almost laughed. Him, ask a girl out? Ridiculous! He had zero chance of actually getting any girl he liked to like him back. It had taken four years of failed attempts in high school and then a massive catastrophe in college to finally prove to him that he was meant to spend his life watching the girl he liked from afar. God, he sounded like a teenager.

The older witch shook his head sadly. "I know the tradition and all, but I thought it'd be best if I went alone this year."

Chris caught his brother's near rolling of his eyes. "You're missing out on an easy score. Most girls in the city would kill to go to this party."

"Not looking for a one night stand, Annie. I just need time to find myself before diving into another relationship."

"Yeah! Sure," Anakin replied, snarky. "A whole year isn't long enough for you?"

What did Anakin care if he had a date or not? It was not like it would interfere with his life. "Leave it alone, Anakin."

Anakin shrugged. "Suit yourself, Chris, but I know one girl that will be devastated to hear you're still on your celibacy kick."

The medical student frowned. Anakin knew someone that wanted to go out with him? Impossible. He was not the Halliwell that girls pined after. Sure, he had been popular enough in high school and he had friends in college, but he was not captain of the football team. Hell, had it not been for swimming, he would have been captain of the debate team or something equally nerdy.

Curiosity got the better of him. "Who?"

The smirk on his younger brother's face instantly made him regret opening his mouth. "So we are interested?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Are you going to play matchmaker or not?"

Anakin arched an eyebrow. "Sorry, dude, but I'm half-whitelighter, not half-cupid."

"Not asking you to help us fall in love here. Just give me a name. See if I might be interested." This was way too high school for him.

"Can't. Sworn to secrecy."

"You need me to beg?"

Anakin tapped a finger on his chin, considering the offer. "Who do you think it is? I can confirm or deny if you're getting closer."

Chris glanced over at Wyatt and Jonathan. "Not here."

Anakin forced himself to not smile. His plan might actually pan out. "The bridge?"

Lucien held a glass of some sour alcoholic drink. It might be the birthday boy's latest creation, and if it was, Jace had lost his touch. He had arrived early at Serena's behest. Chris had finally asked her out, and she was in a fluster. Why people thought just because he was gay that he had any amount of fashion sense was beyond him. So he had grabbed a premade cocktail and followed Serena into her dressing room. Unfortunately, rather than taking his mind off the impending date with Anakin, the waiting only allowed him to dwell on it.

He had not felt this nervous since…well, never. Anakin had asked him out the first time, and he had been more in awe that someone that hot would want to date him than fearful. Now he was the one who had asked Anakin out, and he was still not sure if he had done the right thing. Maybe he had moved too quickly. Perhaps he had forced Anakin into this. Who knew.

"What about this?" Serena asked walking out of her closet wearing a simple black dress.

Lucien gave her a once over. "I liked the other one. This one screams slut to me."

Eyes wide, Serena turned to look at herself in the mirror. "Really? Why?"

"Ser, I'm not the fashion police here. All I know it that the only type of girl I've seen wear a dress that short in the middle of winter are the ones picking up guys for a living. Chris likes sophisticated girls who aren't snobby. Dress like that."

"How?" Serena stared at the large pile of failed dresses. "What does sophisticated look like?"

The elemental stood up, putting his drink on a side table. "Ser, it's not going to matter. He's a boy. We don't pay that much attention to clothing. What dress were you going to wear before he asked you out?"

Serena, looking completely lost, went through the pile and pulled out an elegant pale purple dress. "Here."

"Chris'll love it."

"Why?"

Lucien placed his forehead against her forehead, hands on her shoulders. "Because, Ser, it's you. Elegant, sexy as hell, and still the girl next door."

Serena giggled. "I still need a mask."

Lucien stepped back. "Earth elemental as your service." He gave her an exaggerated bow.

"Show off." Serena smiled warmly.

Opening up his left hand, Lucien focused on all the memories that Serena had played a part in. Her personality, her charm, her ability to make the direst situation funny. He wove all of it into the mask growing in his palm. Then he added color to the mask and finished it off with two clear jewels at the pointed ends of the mask. Affixing the mask onto a slender black handle, he admired his little creation. It was not often he got to use his powers to create things, and he loved it when he could do just that.

"Elegant enough for you?" He asked, handing the mask over.

Serena delicately took the offered gift. "It's perfect!" She gave him a peck on the cheek.

Jace wandered into the dressing room. "My guests will be arriving soon."

"I'm almost ready."

Jace looked down at the pile of dresses. "I feel sorry for you, man."

Lucien chuckled. "After the first few, you get used to it."

"You mean your mind goes numb." Jace walked over and sat down on one of the many stools in the room. "I heard through the grapevine that you and Anakin are getting back together."

Lucien nodded but kept silent. He had always gotten a weird vibe from Jace. It was not enough for him to distrust the young man, but he certainly was on edge when he was around him. Tonight was no exception.

"Well then, you two just have something extra to celebrate in the New Year." Jace stood up. " Ser, I'm going to make sure the cooks aren't screwing things up. Can you see the guests in?"

"Fine, just don't take too long."

Jace gave Lucien a nod and walked out the room. The elemental let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Spoiled brat. Lucien smirked to himself and took a seat by Serena's shoe collection. Staring at the stacks and layers of designer shoes, it still amazed him how the collection had grown. Serena hated shoes; she was a Southern California girl if there ever was one. Aside for formal occasions, he could not think of a time he had seen his friend wear any other type of footwear than flip-flops.

"Why do you keep these shoes?"

Serena's face popped over the dressing room door. "You want some?"

The elemental rolled his eyes before closing them. Any moment now and he would be walking down the long staircase and into the massive ballroom. And in that room waiting for him would be Annie. It was cliché, but he felt the butterflies in his stomach increase their fluttering. And that was so weird. They had spent Christmas together, perfectly comfortable to be affectionate. But now that it was official, that it was a date, it made his heart hammer.

"Ready!"

He looked over and grinned broadly. "Chris'll be batting the boys away tonight."

Red tinting her cheeks, Serena smirked. "Worried about the competition?"

He ignored that jibe and conjured his pre-made mask. Simple black: that is what he told Anakin he would be wearing. "Sorry, Ser, but Annie will only have eyes for this masked face tonight."

Serena was about to respond when a maid appeared in the doorway. "Lady Capell, the guests have just arrived."

"Thank you."

Luc rubbed his hands together. "Now or never, Ser."

"After you, Luc."

The slow song played softly in the background, but Anakin was dancing to a different song, one that Lucien was leading. It felt safe to be in Luc's arms; it felt normal. He rested his head against Luc's and stared into the elemental's welcoming brown eyes. The world faded into the distance, and in that moment Anakin knew he'd made the right choice.

He bent down and gently brushed his lips against his partner's. "Thank you," he whispered before deepening the kiss.

Before he could even begin to comprehend what he was doing, a loud blood-curdling scream ripped through the ballroom. He pulled back while pulling Lucien closer to him. A circle was beginning to form from where the scream had come from. He immediately reached out telepathically for his siblings. They were moving toward the circle and none of them knew what was going on.

"What happened?" Luc asked softly.

Anakin shrugged. He had no idea what was going on, but he had a guess. Only one thing elicited such a reaction from a person—death. So much for his perfect date.

"Let's go see."

Anakin released his grip around Luc's waist and took hold of his hand. Carefully, he made his way through the gathering crowd until they reached the center of the circle. He spotted Chris and Serena on the other side of the opening before taking in the horror in the middle.

Two bodies lay on the ground. The clothes of both victims were slashed, exposing deep cuts to the rest of their bodies. Blood was pooling underneath them, even flowing toward the shocked crowd.

"Oh my God!" Lucien covered his mouth.

Anakin only nodded. "Vampires."

He looked over at Chris, surprised to find his brother standing next to him.

"Damn straight. But I sensed nothing."

Wyatt joined the group. "Vampire?"

Anakin gave his eldest brother a nod. Looking down at the bodies, he swallowed the bile rising up his throat. The picture was too grotesque to be imaginable, and yet he felt like he had seen it before. He squeezed Luc's hand, needing a link to reality. The feeling of déjà vu was nearly as overwhelming as the shock and horror.

"Do we know who they are?"

He immediately regretted asking the question because it forced them to take another look. He watched as recognition washed over Serena. Her whole body tensed and she shook her head. Then he saw it too: the piercing eyes and nearly constant smirking mouth. It was Jace and his date for the evening.

"Ser! I'm so sorry."

He ran over to his best friend and pulled her tightly to his chest. She was rigid and muttering, then the tears started. Her nails dug into his skin as she clung on tightly, shaking horribly. Nothing in all his years of demon fighting and losing loved ones had prepared him for this. This was the first time an attack had struck so close to home when it was not a loved one. He and Jace had despised each other in a love-hate sibling sort of way. He looked helplessly at his brothers as he mumbled simple words of comfort.

But the situation only continued to worsen around him. Red and blue lights flashed through the large windows. Someone had called the police, which would have been fine, even the right thing … if the killing spree had ended. But it had not, and this time Anakin felt the terror spike in the vampire's victim before her life was snuffed out. People began to scream and run for the exits.

"Did you see it?" Wyatt asked.

Anakin shook his head. As with the first attack, the vampire had been moving quickly. He hugged Serena tightly before switching places with Chris. Freed from his friend's shaking grip, he realized how unsteady he was. Three dead, one of them being a frenemy, and they were completely helpless. Not just because they had no idea where or who the vampire was, but with the police already here, they could not use magic.

He felt the intent moments before the cold hand wrapped around his throat. Refusing to give in easily, he drove his heel onto the vampire's foot. The pain or shock caught his attacker off-guard and Anakin spun out of the bloodsucker's grip. He reached for the athame hanging from his belt, but the vampire was already gone. He spun around, but there was no sign of the demon's presence just the pandemonium of the terrified crowd.

"Fuck!"

Luc's arms snaked around his waist, and Anakin trembled. Off by a millisecond and he would have been the fourth victim. He let out a shuddering breath and leaned into his boyfriend's chest, seeking comfort. There had been one too many close calls lately; the demons were getting stronger and smarter. And they were becoming bolder in their attacks.

Wyatt circled over to Anakin, all the while keeping an eye on Chris and Serena. "We need to get out of here. Those cops aren't SFPD, they're feds."

Lucien strengthened his grip on Anakin. "As in working for General Glyndwr feds?"

"That's the impression I'm getting."

Anakin concurred with a short nod. Out of the pan and into the fire, except this time the pan was there to keep them in the fire. "There are witches in with the feds."

However, before he could explain himself further, there was an explosion from behind the doors. A roar echoed over the whines of the sirens and was answered by gunfire. The vampire must have tried to escape, or some poor innocent was being turned into Swiss cheese for no reason. The smell of fear drowned out anything else. He intertwined his fingers with Lucien's.

The glows of the police lights were suddenly coupled with the fierce blaze of a fire. Anakin threw up his shield without thinking seconds before a black SVU engulfed in flames burst through one of the windows. The car impacted on his shield left him feeling crushed from the inside out. The wind was knocked out of him and he could not catch his breath. The shield collapsed, and the intense heat from the destroyed car washed over him, singeing his eyebrows.

He felt Lucien let go and was about to complain before he felt the heat die down to a bearable level. Looking over his shoulder, his heart swelled with pride as he watched Luc exercise his gifts to temper the fire without snuffing it out. Then Chris and Serena caught his eyes, and his world came crashing back down around him. Jace was dead. And they had to leave him here or risk exposing themselves.

"We need to go," Wyatt said. "They can't catch us here."

Wyatt looked over at Serena. She had been spared the horrors of the dark side of magic. For so many years she and Anakin had been the best of friends. She was not prepared to deal with this. He looked at Anakin and wondered just how his baby brother was handling Jace's death. Was he already blaming himself for the kid's death?

"What about the bodies?" Wyatt finally asked so that Serena and Chris could not hear him.

Anakin looked down at his feet. It felt like he was betraying Jace, but they could not risk taking his body. "We leave them. Serena, Chris, and I can come back to ask about Jace. Make up something about not being able to find him after we all ran out of the house."

"Better say you were just returning to the party," Lucien spoke up hollowly. "I heard that standard practice for a scene like this is for the agents to videotape everything. They might realize you didn't run out of the house with the rest of the guests."

More gunshots followed a pained roar and screams. Anakin looked out the window. "This feels so wrong. We should be helping them."

"We can't risk exposure, Annie." Wyatt placed a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's get out of here before they kill that thing and start their search."

"What about Ser? She's going to go ballistic when she knows we're leaving her brother here." Lucien asked.

Anakin bit his lip. "I'll handle it."

He walked over to the couple. With every step he lost his nerve and worried more if he was doing the right thing. They had to make a quick escape, but this verged on dark magic. What they were doing was personal gain, pure and simple. If they were not so worried about their own skin, they would be out there fighting the vampire. Instead they were using its rampage as a cover for their escape. He reached Chris and Serena.

"Ser?"

She looked up at him and he waved his hand. Her eyes fluttered shut and she went limp against Chris.

"Orb to the Manor," Anakin commanded before Chris could scream at him.

He felt terrible for using magic to do that, but they had to escape. Chris gave him a glare but vanished in a swirl of lights that moved far quicker than normal. He clearly realized how much danger they were in. He turned to see Wyatt follow suit, taking Lucien with him. Anakin looked over at Jace's body.

"Sorry."

He orbed out of the massacre.

Anakin arrived in the Manor's kitchen. Barely fully materialized, he rushed over to the sink and heaved. A gentle hand settled on his shoulder and he turned, still shaking. Lucien held up a glass of water, which he accepted graciously. They had let that monster go. Who knew how many people would die because of their cowardly retreat! He took a sip of water.

"Who's going back?"

"I don't know, Annie." Lucien took a step closer and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist.

Then it hit Anakin again. A millisecond off and he would be among those corpses. Death had come for him before, but this time it shook him to his core. He had fought the Source, wraiths, and demons not even Charmed magic could vanquish. And then tonight a mere bloodthirsty beast got close enough to break skin. He reached up and brushed the bruised skin.

"Now we match," Lucien commented, trying to lighten the mood.

Anakin laid his head on Luc's shoulder. Who was going to tell Serena's mom about Jace? And the other victims—who would tell their families? All the powers at his disposal and he had retreated. Retreated to save his own hide. God damn whoever pushed the Hunting Bill through Congress.

Anakin sighed. "Where's everyone?"

"Wyatt's on the phone telling Sarah about tonight. Chris took Serena into the living room." Luc's voice dropped. "She's pale, Ann. And she's not said a word."

Well, of course! She was in shock. Anakin trembled at the thought of losing any of his brothers or Prue. He lived through their deaths from the other timeline, but he still did not understand how his other self had carried on. He would have broken down. Hell, he had tried to off himself when Luc broke up with him.

He disentangled himself from Luc's arms. "Maybe you and Wyatt should go back. You were the closest one to Jace out of all of us, and Wy can protect you if things get out of hand." And I'm not sure I can go back, he thought.

The elemental agreed with a short nod. His eyes were puffy and tears marked trails down his cheeks. Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. He bent forward and kissed Luc softly. He rested his head against Lucien's. "You don't—"

"No, Annie. I need to. I—I want to be—I have to be busy."

Luc nibbled his bottom lip before leaning in for another deeper kiss. And for the moment, that split second, the horror of the night slipped away. But then the kiss was over and reality crashed back into focus. His stomach tightened, and emptiness replaced his heart. They had lost someone to the war, and Luc somehow knew Jace would not be the last.

Hands cupped Anakin's face. "I'll tell you when we're leaving. I—I love you."

"Love you, too," Anakin said, his eyes brightening.

The witch watched Lucien walk out of the kitchen. Left alone, the grief became unbearable again, but worse than the grief was the guilt. All the excuses and arguments that had been tossed around since last August sounded hollow against the new backdrop. He could not save every innocent. He accepted that, but this was different. All the other people he had lost to demons, warlocks, and the like were terrible losses, yet he knew he had done everything he could to save them. Tonight they let that vampire escape into an all but helpless crowd.

His stomach churned and threatened to heave. The war had not even begun in earnest, and already they were compromising on their ethics. Wiccan code stated very plainly that it was their job to protect the innocent. Theorists and philosophers could argue what "innocent" meant, but to Anakin, the meaning was very clear: innocent meant helpless, mortal, and undeserving. That is what the crowd had been, even those agents. And he ran from the battle, even used it to make his escape.

Anakin looked up at a sound in the entranceway. He wandered out of the kitchen, readying a spell if it was a demon. The front doors came into sight and a bright light stood or rather floated inches in front of him. But for its brightness, the light did not illuminate anything except itself. He growled.

"Show yourself, Raphael."

The light dimmed and wrapped around a human figure. The radiance died, lingering a moment longer at the man's eyes and mouth before vanishing entirely. His frown deepened as the archangel's form solidified.

Bright blue eyes, thin lips, and pale skin. Raphael had changed since the last time Anakin had seen him. Twenty-something with blond hair and skinny as anything, the new form could easily pass as human. The only other time Anakin had met Raphael, or Benjamin, as was his Elder name, the guy had screamed magical being. Clearly living on Earth had required a major shift in form.

Raphael chuckled. "Jonathan's been telling secrets."

Anakin was in no mood to be pleasant. "What do you want?"

The Power That Be flinched. "I heard about your loss. We are sorry we could not interfere. Aeglaeca is far more cunning than Lucifer ever was."

Anakin glared. People were dead and dying, his best friend was suffering in the next room. He did not have time for small talk with a cowardly Power That Be turned Elder.

Anakin smirked. "Yeah, stupidity must run in the family then, huh?"

Raphael's blue eyes turned a brilliant golden orange. "Careful, witch. I can stomach many of your insults, but never compare me with the Fallen."

"But it is true, right? You are all archangels. Lucifer, Brendan, Hellequin, Michael, Gabriel, Aeglaeca ... your whole history is written in the Bible for those who want to look."

His eyes returned to calm blue. "In part, yes. We make no claim to be the same beings as those spoken about in the Holy Book, but we share similar histories. Although I can tell you that the Gabriel you and I knew never acted as a Messenger between the Creator and the Holy Mother.

"However, looking at the mythos as a how, the Powers are the equivalent to the archangels be they loyal or fallen. Which is why I have come to you, Anakin. Up until now, the Powers in this plan have always balanced each other: one Fallen for one good. Brendan and Gabriel, I and Hellequin, Michael and Aeglaeca. But now Michael—"

"Wait, wait, wait." Anakin held up his hand. "Jonathan told me Michael was AWOL."

Raphael smiled patiently. "As did I. You must understand that even in the Powers there is a pecking order. Michael is a number of pay grades above me. He and Gabriel never got along, so he worked alone. After a while, Gabriel and I stopped seeing any signs of his presence and believed the worst. But at the time the Charmed Ones were in their heyday and could have, with our direction, taken on one of the Fallen. So we never considered the balance lost."

His head was spinning with the information. "Ok, Raphael. History not needed."

The angel licked his lips. "Summed up, Michael had gone deep undercover. He infiltrated the ranks of wraiths. He resurfaced with disturbing news. Lucifer yet lives, and Aeglaeca, with help from Hellequin, hopes to free the Beast from his cage."

All Anakin heard was that another big bad was going to be coming after his family. Their desperate situation just became impossible.

"Why tell me?"

Raphael took a deep breath. "Aeglaeca has set his eyes on your family. He knows that the Halliwells are the only witches able to ruin his plans. And more importantly, know how to free Lucifer, or rather what Aeglaeca still needs to complete the ritual."

"What?"

"A demonic sacrifice," Raphael whispered. "But not any demon will do: only one that has drunken the blood of both Twice Blessed ones."

Now Anakin was entirely thrown. "Both Twice Blessed ones? Sorry, but Wyatt's only one person."

At that Raphael laughed a not-so-human laugh. "A sole being imbued with the very core of magic. Come now, Anakin, you know better than to believe that. The Grand Design requires balance. For every good being, there is an evil one. Wyatt has his evil counterpart, and he does not exist on a different plane."

An evil Wyatt? Anakin shuddered. He had heard stories of Chris Perry, the first Halliwell to time travel to save the family, and that timeline made everything else sound like Heaven on Earth.

"Who?" Anakin asked softly.

Shoulders rose and fell. "Aeglaeca destroyed any mention of the other. Now only the Creator knows who the Twice Blessed is. The Creator and Aeglaeca."

Anakin's brow furrowed. "What about the witch, demon, whatever?"

"Possible. But since he or she has never attempted a power play, we believe they are as much in the dark as the rest of the world."

Anakin watched Raphael gather himself, a pained expression crossing his face. The angel looked in the direction of the living room. "Perhaps I misjudged the situation tonight. Another time, another place." Then the Power was gone. No orbs or flash of light, not even a sound. Just gone.

Yet another twist in the winding path that was his life. Information swirled around his head: Lucifer, another Wyatt, and the end of the world. No pressure. The night was supposed to be happy, carefree. Instead it started out with a murder and now a foreboding message from the gods. When were the Fates going to cut him some slack?

A deep breath cleared his mind enough for Anakin to settle on a task. The dead, fearful face of Jace and his date took his breath away. Grief came in waves; he knew that. It was not that long ago that Jonathan had murdered his godmother. And he had watched as his family died, helpless to stop their deaths. Somehow tonight was so much worse. Not even losing Wyatt and Chris had hurt this bad, had made him feel this hollow and churned up.

Anakin licked his lips. Mere yards away was probably the only person who felt worse than he did. His best friend. One of the few people able to make him smile even in his worst moods. The only person who had simply listened to him after his failed suicide attempt. She did not deserve to have this happen to her.

He walked into the living room. On a couch sat his brother, red-eyed and exhausted. Next to him lay Serena, her head in his lap, and he was lightly petting her hair. For the moment, she was silent and to anyone else, asleep. But Anakin knew her. He knew that she was very much awake and suffering deeply. His heart caught in his throat.

"Wy and Luc are going back." It was all he could manage to say. Business was easier to deal with than reality.

Chris looked up. "I want to go. I owe it to her family." He glanced down. "Right, Ser?"

The distraught and broken young woman sniffled. "He needs to go, Annie. I—I wan-want him t-to."

The first thought to pop in his head was that with Chris going as well, he would be by himself. If a demon attacked, could he vanquish it on his own? A picture of Serena lying on the floor, a pool of blood gathering around her, flashed in his mind's eye. He paled.

He squelched his misgivings. Serena's state of mind was more important than his own. And his siblings would only be an orb away. He squared his shoulders "Just be careful. We don't need anything else to happen tonight."

Chris bent down and gently kissed his date on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

As he passed, Anakin gave Chris's shoulder a comforting squeeze. He felt his grief lessen as Chris engulfed him in a brotherly hug. "Look after her."

Then Chris was gone and Anakin felt the oppressive silence close in on him.

Serena sat up and wiped away her tears. "How was the date?"

"Ser," Anakin dragged out the name, sorrow flowing from his lips.

A sniffle was all he got in return. He walked over and sat down. Almost without thinking, he reached for her hand. Moments passed and she did not respond. Her fingers were cold and motionless in his, and he suddenly believed he had made some kind of mistake. But verbiage had never been his talent; he comforted in more physical ways.

Then she hesitantly gripped back, and warm relief rushed through him like a whirlwind. She lowered her head onto his shoulder. She began to shake with uncontrollable sobs. He pulled her closer and leaned his head on hers. His own tears returned.

Silence descended upon them again. But this time it was easier silence, definitely not happy or content, but easier. A silence that allowed two best friends to comfort each other and begin the long healing process.

Lucien dropped by and Anakin motioned for him to go. He caught the sad smile on his boyfriend's face. A part of him wanted to yell out, tell Luc to stay, but he knew that this time should belong to just him and Serena. Serena moved to curl up with her head resting on Anakin's lap. Her breathing became regular, no more sniffling and choked sobs. Anakin leaned his head back and sleep took him.


	11. Within These Walls

Within These Walls

AN: This chapter contains violence, strong language, and content of sexual nature. As such it has an R rating.

A week had passed since the New Year's Eve party. The funeral for Jace had been held in quick order. After the funeral, Serena had been swept away by her father back to England for some grieving time away from the paparazzi. She and Chris had then gone on to rack up their phone bills.

For Anakin, the week had changed little. The guilt and pain were still just as strong. He had learned to live with the pain. It took time to heal wounds, and time was something he felt he no longer had. He refused to let his guilt eat him up. And so he had taken to researching the lore both magical and religious on Lucifer and the other Powers That Be. Knowledge was power and every bit helped.

Currently, he was in the attic perusing the Book of Shadows for the umpteenth time, cross-referencing it with what he had learned about the Biblical Michael and Gabriel. So far his search had landed him little more than what Jonathan and Raphael had told him. And the more he read the same thing over and over again, the more concerned he became. One thing was agreed upon throughout all the accounts: only a Power could kill a Power.

And from his one experience with a battle between two Powers…apocalypse was putting it mildly. When Gabriel and Brendan had destroyed each other, they had all but annihilated the entire Elder realm. Seven years later, most of the Elders that had survived still remained on Earth. Up There was still in ruins and not for lack of a building effort.

The young witch rubbed his forehead. The start of a headache was making it hard to concentrate on the Latin article he was scanning. Latin was taught at Magic School, but he had hardly mastered the language.

"All these brilliant minds and not one of them thought to come up with a translating spell," Anakin murmured, snapping the Book shut.

A floorboard creaked. "Research not going well?"

Anakin jumped. "God! Luc, don't sneak up on me like that."

"I called your cell twice," Lucien said defensively.

Anakin relaxed. "My mom let you in?"

Luc nodded. "She said to tell you that lunch will be ready in a minute, and that you'd be eating it with her downstairs."

Anakin's eyes circled up to the roof and back to the elemental. "She's worried I might not be dealing. Thinks I'm burying my sorrows with the research."

Luc stepped closer. "And?"

"And what?"

"Is she right?"

Anakin felt anger well up inside of him, but he bolted it down. Lucien had every right to be concerned. Aside from a family dinner, he had been avoiding him. Not just Lucien, but everyone. He had to find a way to fix everything, to stop Armageddon.

"You know what? Forget I said that." Luc leaned in closer. "I'd settle for a hello."

The smile was pulled out of him before he could stop it. Just being in Luc's presence made him feel more normal. The weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders and he felt he could breathe again. He closed the gap between their lips and leaned deep into the kiss.

They broke after a few minutes. "Hi." Breathless, Anakin opened his eyes.

Luc smirked. "Hi."

Anakin leaned in but Lucien put a finger on his lips.

"First you need to eat something. No point learning all you can about Lucifer and Aegl—l…"

"Aeglaeca."

Lucien smiled gratefully. "Aeglaeca if you're too weak from starvation to do anything about them."

"Fine, one sandwich," Anakin agreed huffily.

The elemental just shrugged. He linked his fingers with Anakin's and started leading the way downstairs. They reached the stairs before he felt Anakin pull him back. He turned around to argue but was cut off by Anakin's lips. He moaned as their kiss deepened.

Anakin pulled back. "Maybe after the sandwich we can go for ice cream?"

Lucien could only grin, his cheeks flushed. "Perfect."

Anakin slipped his arm around his waist, and they started back down the stairs.

Once in the dining room, Anakin dropped his arm from Luc's waist. His mom was fine with the relationship, but he could still sense the tiny spark of concern whenever she saw the physical display of their intimacy. Like everyone else, she still needed time to adjust to the new and let the past stay in the past. Anakin let Luc choose a spot at the table.

His mother's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Perhaps I should have Luc come over more often."

"Mom!"

Piper chuckled. "It's nice to see you too, sweetie."

Okay, he deserved that. He had been cooped up in the attic for the better part of the last three days, but he had not asked his parents to cut their trip short.

Luc came to the rescue. "So, Mrs. Halliwell, what's for lunch?"

"Panini with garden salad."

Piper sat down, eyeing her son. He had grown up to be a wonderful young man, and considering everything life had thrown at him in his short eighteen years, that was a miracle. She wondered if she could have turned out as caring and loving as he was if she had grown up as a witch. Day in and day out constantly fighting demons and losing innocents, but this recent death had struck her baby differently.

She looked over at Lucien. His life had not been easy either. Death took his mother early on. His dad remarried and his older stepbrother had not been too accepting of homosexuals. Then Jonathan, his half-brother and then Source kidnapped him. He had to watch Jonathan get vanquished only to start dreaming that he had survived.

Two difficult lives that had only made the two that more prepared for what Fate had in store for them. Somehow she knew that together they would make it through.

"How's your uncle?" she asked.

Luc swallowed his mouthful of food. Piper always had a way of catching him at the most awkward time. "Good. He says thanks for the job."

She smiled. "P3 needed the publicity. He did us a favor."

And so life continued in the Halliwell household. Anakin sat in his seat half-listening to the mundane conversation going on in the room. Uncles? And publicity? Those were cares for lesser beings. No. Normal beings. He, on the other hand, had other pressing concerns.

If Lucifer broke free, who would balance him out? Raphael had been very silent on that point. Would he and his brothers be enough? Or could Michael pull some strings and get another Power set down? These were important questions. And he wanted answers.

But then he looked over at Luc, smiling and chatting away. All the horrors he had gone through, and the guy still had a smile able to brighten even Death's day.

Wait! Was Death another angel? He had read somewhere that Death was considered one of the higher ups. But the guy was still answerable to Destiny. Could they change sides if it came to it? Would they take up arms against the Fallen?

His train of thoughts ran off the tracks when his phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hey! Fine, and yours? Umm, not sure." He placed a hand over the speaker on his phone. "Spring Break?"

"Last week of March."

He turned back to his phone. "End of March…okay, sounds great…Yeah I know, but what can I do? …Ha ha, that would not fly. See you then. Bye."

He pocketed his phone and was aware of the two pair of eyes staring intently at him. "That was Damien. He just got back to school and wanted to make Spring Break plans before classes started."

"Damien? As in the Damien you took to the club?" Piper asked.

He felt a pang of guilt. "Yes, Mom."

"He's coming out here?" Luc sounded off to Anakin.

The witch nodded. "If we're not all on the run by then."

He reached under the table and clutched at Luc's hand. Fingers interlaced and Anakin gave him a squeeze. "Still up for ice cream?"

The few times that Luc and Damien had met, there had been tension. Anakin never understood why. He had a crush on Damien, but it lasted for all of a few weeks. Once Lucien had come back into his life, other boys just did nothing for him. Of course that sounded sappy even to him, but it was true. And Luc had to know that. His brow creased. Could he really be jealous of Damien?

"Sure, I just need a moment." Lucien stood up and walked out of the room.

Piper's eyes settled on him. "Am I missing something?"

"No." Anakin continued to stare at where Lucien had left.

He felt sure that his mom would continue to pry, but the phone rang. Anakin busied himself with collecting the dishes as she talked on the phone. Only as he was picking up his half-empty glass he felt more than saw his mother pale. The feeling was overpowering, and his grip weakened. The glass fell to the floor, sending juice and shards everywhere.

"Mom?"

He felt his own fear take hold of his stomach. Ice shot through his chest as his mother just stood there with the phone pressed to her ear. Thoughts came to mind of deaths or serious injury. Was it Wyatt? Chris? Phoebe? Henry? Time slowed and the paralyzing fear crept deeper under his skin. What if…?

Right at that moment Lucien walked back into the room. "You know someone with a black SUV?"

The phone was slammed back on the receiver. "Anakin, orb to Magic School."

"Why?" He was not running from another fight, but he caught the glare his mother held on him.

A knock on the front door answered Anakin's question.

"FBI, open up!"

"SHIT!"

Piper grabbed her son by the shoulder. "Anakin! Orb. NOW!"

Anakin did not need to be told a third time. He held on to his mother and pulled Lucien to his chest. The sensation of weightlessness hit him and the world dissolved. Just as everything turned into the usual grey mist it all came back into sharp painful focus. He fell to the floor, pulling Lucien with him.

"They blocked my orb!" he hissed.

_CRASH._

Anakin scrambled to his feet. People were coming to hurt his family. Resolve crystallized and strengthened him. Any questions about personal gain and regards for innocents were lost beneath the determination to protect his mother and Lucien. Magic gathered around him ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

Behind him he could sense his mother's fears dissolve into fury, and Luc's grim resolution gave him heart. They would make it through this just like they made it through all other scrapes.

An armed FBI agent stepped in Anakin's field of vision. A red dot pierced his chest. "Surrender."

Anakin moved, a gun went off, and something thudded dully into his left shoulder. His knee went weak, and he stumbled forward. He collapsed face first onto the wood floor, wondering idiotically why his leg gave out. The room around him resounded with screams and commands.

He tried to sit up, but his left arm was numb. He rolled onto his right and felt the gentle trickle of warmth run across his chest. He spotted the blood spatter on the floor and groaned. Shot! Someone actually shot him. The noise of the room died away, and he felt vaguely nauseous.

Grunting, Anakin struggled to his feet; more of an effort than he had anticipated as the numbness had spread across the better part of his left side. He legs threatened to buckle again, but he fought to stay standing.

Around him more FBI agents had poured into the room. They had guns pointed at Luc and his mom. Righteous anger poured out from his core, blinding him from everything else. Lightning sprang from his right hand and coursed through the agents in the room. The blue-and-white forks of power shattered his retreat from the world and the screams of pain fed his satisfaction as one by one the helpless agents dropped to the ground.

But his anger quickly burnt itself out, and Anakin felt his control on the deadly magical attack slip. His shoulder at last realized what had happened, and the pain was like a molten liquid, dripping down his ribs, seeping across his chest and the side of his head. As the pain traced the lines of numbness it magnified, causing new bouts of dizziness and nausea.

Sweat trickled down his nose, and his strength failed him. His slipped to the floor with a pained gasp. He was immediately engulfed in a powerful hug, the person kind enough to stay clear of his shattered shoulder. His vision swam, but he vaguely made out the outline of Lucien. He tried to speak, failed, and allowed the threatening darkness to take him.

Lucien's heart stopped when Anakin went limp. As terrified as he had been during Anakin's attack, this was much worse. It hurt to breathe; tears burned his eyes. Please, God, let him live through this.

"Put pressure on the wound, Luc," Piper shakily said.

He ripped off his shirt and balled it up. Pressing it hard onto the wound, he let himself go. Grief shook his body, gasps constituted breathing, and a sense of dread gnawed at his soul. His whole world boiled down to Anakin, and it was crashing down around him.

Shocked to her core, Piper knew she could not lose herself to grief. Her son needed help, but no help would be coming to them. The phone call had been a warning: they were under surveillance. No whitelighter or Elder would heed her calls for help. And she would not call for her family even to save her baby. They were cornered with no escape in sight. The ineffable helpless feeling only served to spur her into action.

"We need to get him to Magic School."

Luc looked up at her with blank eyes. "Anakin can't orb."

Right, but elemental magic was not as well understood. "Maybe you can transport him."

The Halliwell matriarch watched the young elemental pull himself out of his downward spiral and felt a stirring in the air. She had never understood the vague awe-filled comments Leo made about elemental magic until that moment. It was like her own power, but more rich and lovely. The power brushed over her, and for a split second she felt connected to everything. Her ears popped and she was standing in Magic School's main hallway with Anakin lying at her feet.

Where was Lucien?

A gust of wind slammed into her and a disheveled, puffy-eyed Lucien appeared before her along with his brother.

Jonathan glanced down at Anakin, but the concern was fleeting. "We're going to have company. They had wraiths with them."

Luc dropped next to Anakin as Piper screamed her lungs out for help. Seconds dragged by before a blue hue lit up the corridor. Out of the orbs stepped a confused Chris.

"Heal him," Piper commanded before he could waste time with questions.

Luc fell away from Anakin, instead taking a hand in his and squeezing it tightly. He watched Chris hold his hand over Anakin's wound. The soft golden glow glistened against the deep brown-red that soaked his shirt. Time dragged on and Chris continued his work, but Anakin did not stir. His breath hitched deep in his throat; it had never taken Chris this long to heal a wound. Even that athame to the heart had taken mere seconds to fix. This was taking forever.

Chris's hands fell away. His mind was blank. The grey, clammy face of his brother etched itself into his memory. His mother was screaming at him, but he could care less. He had tried to heal the wound, and it had stopped bleeding. But he felt that was only because of nature taking its course; he could not heal Anakin. He couldn't heal his baby brother.

"It's not working." It was barely more than a whisper. "I need to get him to Wyatt."

Shock kept Lucien from acting out.

Raphael walked through the classroom door. He took a look around the room. "Destiny won't allow you to hide from this."

Lucien could have sworn the angel was looking at him when he said it.

Piper narrowed her eyes. "Haven't you taken enough from this family? Hasn't Anakin suffered enough?"

The archangel laughed heartily. "I'm pleased you think I have the type of power to be orchestrating this, but I must sadly inform you that I am merely a lowly messenger of the Creator." He glanced over at Anakin, his eyes shimmering. "Destiny has her own mission to accomplish tonight, Piper, and neither I nor Michael can stop her. She has taken a personal interest in your family, and for better or worse, she believes that having Anakin out of commission will help in the long run."

Piper blanched. The Angel of Destiny was responsible for this! The same bitch who had taken Leo from her before the Ultimate Battle!

Before she could lay into Raphael, he cut her off. "And powerful as she is, Destiny did not cause these events. She is only using what others have put into motion."

It was Lucien who jumped in, anger rolling off him in torrents. "But she is stopping Chris from healing An—him."

"And she will not let him die, not from that bullet at least, but you…" This time Lucien was sure he was talking directly to him. "You have to stop this whole affair from becoming public. If this family is exposed, Magic will lose this war, and whatever Aeglaeca has planned will pale in comparison with the Hell that will rain down on Earth. That much I do know."

Lucien's eyebrows vanished beneath sweat-soaked curls. "How can I do that?"

Raphael looked around the room. "That is not for others to know, Lucien. Your destiny is one that must be done alone."

Fire erupted all over the angel's shirt. "Like hell is he doing anything by himself, Raphael," Jonathan snarled.

Lucien blinked and the fire died. "Jon, please. If it'll save Anakin, let me do it." He had vowed to give up going after demons once his brother was found. He certainly never wanted to go after one by himself ever again. Sanity had not been an option while he had been trying to save his brother, but now…now, his eyes were opened. And he knew how close he treaded the line between good and evil. He parted his cracked lips. "Please."

"Luc, sweetie," Piper started.

"Luc!" Chris begged.

His brother glared at Raphael, but his mind was made up. Once more into the fray, and he would have both men that he loved back. It was a small sacrifice.

"Michael will join you shortly to help keep Anakin stable." Raphael said, then took his leave.

Luc looked back at Anakin, the lump in his throat returning. "Keep him safe." He followed Heaven's scrawny messenger out of the room.

Raphael took him down a side corridor, walking briskly, never looking back to check on him, but that suited him just fine. It gave him time to prepare himself for whatever destiny that lay ahead. The silence only lasted, however, until they reached the end of the passageway. Waiting for them was a Black woman in flowing white robes.

"You were supposed to send him alone, Raphael."

Raphael bowed his head. "Your pardon, Michael. I changed my mind; I'll follow him into battle."

Thrown by the weird language, Lucien forgot his initial surprise at Michael being a woman. He thought about interrupting and demanding a translation, but the glare the older archangel shot at Raphael stilled his tongue.

"You are too close to this demon."

Demon! Lucien at least knew they were talking about a demon. Again his curiosity made him open his mouth, but he was silenced by a hand on his shoulder.

Raphael lost the boyish naïve voice and spoke with a might and calm that could never have come out of a human's mouth. His eyes sparkled with gold specks that carried lights of their own. "I have made my decision. Gabriel and Destiny spoke of this as being my assignment. Not yours, sir."

Michael scowled and her deep brown eyes suddenly burned furious amber. She switched back to English. "This is his fight, Raphael. Let your personal feelings control you and this will be the end of everything we've worked to protect."

A light flashed and Michael was gone.

"What the hell was that about?"

Raphael let go of his shoulder. "The language is ancient; the tongue granted to humanity before the Tower, and Michael was simply worried about my history with the particular demon you have to vanquish."

For his part, Lucien was getting lost in the information being thrown at him. Even trying his best he just could not keep it all straight, and to top it all off, he kept picturing Anakin's pale, anguish-ridden face.

"Demon?"

"A powerful ancient foe. Some say it was she who was in the Garden rather than Lucifer, but for all her wiles, Lilith lacks the tact her father possesses." Raphael sat down on a chair that shimmered out of the air. "Please, sit. We have an hour before Lilith will arrive at the Manor."

The elemental dumbly nodded and sat in a second conjured chair. Lilith was a name he knew all too well. She was the demon his mother had been tracking before she had been struck with cancer. His Book of Shadows had chapters devoted on her and how it was best to avoid pissing her off.

"Lilith? What's her story?"

The Power smiled sadly. "Right, I forgot. She killed your mother. Powerful demigods tends to have a signature way of getting rid of mortals who are getting too close. Lilith's was illness and disease; she specialized in cancer."

Luc's mind took another tumble. "Wha—why?"

"Your mother was a powerful elemental, Lucien. Some believed she was too powerful. At the time, the Charmed Ones were no longer considered active members of the magical community. Lilith decided to make a grab for the Underworld's throne and had it not been for your mother she would have succeeded. While wounded and humiliated, Lilith was hardly defeated, and so she took her revenge. Your mother died about a year later, despite my best petition to the Creator to spare her."

Lucien sniffled; bringing his mother up was hard. She had never been a big part of his life, but a part of him always knew she loved him, and he loved her back. He remembered her singing lullabies to him and snuggling with him when there was a thunderstorm. He also remembered feeling absolutely helpless when she got sick. A five-year-old does not entirely understand words like cancer and terminal, but he had known his mom was no longer able to play with him.

Then one day she and his dad went to the hospital; he had to stay with the old lady with too many cats. When his dad came back to pick him up, it was so late. He cried the whole way to the hospital; he could not understand why his dad had woken him up. But when they got to his mother's room, he just felt something was wrong. His dad held him tightly as the doctors turned off the machines keeping his mom alive. The cancer had metastasized to the brain. Eva Jonas, his mother, died at midnight on his sixth birthday.

Oblivious to his internal conflict, Raphael had continued with his story.

"…Lamina. Horrible little beasts, really. I guess most modern day people would think they were vampires, but these things are so much worse. Vampires like the one that fathered your brother and the ones that raised him, they are classy. Demented to be sure, but they still have a sense of themselves.

"Lamina—they're base creatures. The thirst controls them, and none rival their sexual appetite. Only appropriate as they were mothered by the first seductress."

"Lamina? I've never heard a demon by that name," Lucien replied, focusing instead on the details than getting lost in grief.

"You would not have." Raphael sighed heavily, checking his watch. "I killed them all after my brush with Lilith. And be grateful she never saw fit to remake them. Only demons I have seen capable to kill a whitelighter without darklighter poison."

Clearly there was some more to the story. Raphael had this hurt look in his eyes when he spoke about the Lamina. Love story, maybe? Lucien chuckled; Anakin was right: he was a romantic.

Anakin.

He wondered sometimes if Anakin ever questioned his life choices. One in particular kept him up at night: did Anakin regret being with him? They were together in the other future and it had caused the witch to kill his brothers. Then Jonathan came here and damn near killed his family again. Afterwards, he had caused more pain by breaking up with him to find his murderous brother. And now—now they meet up and all hell breaks loose once again. Maybe their relationship was a curse.

Lucien caught Raphael staring intently at him. "Sorry."

"Anakin will be safe, Lucien, I can promise you that. Michael may not always be a team player, but she knows how far she can push the boundary. We've all been charged with protecting Anakin by the highest Power. Had Destiny not already made plans for these events, we would have stopped that bullet."

"Why?" His throat felt dry. He cleared it. "What makes Anakin so important that the Creator is having his soldiers watch out for him?"

The angel got a twinkle in his eye. "His destiny is not for me to reveal to you."

"It's about Lucifer, isn't it?"

Lucien spotted the subtle eyebrow raise.

"Not for me to say, Lucien." Raphael glanced at his watch. "And there is no more time for chitchat. I need to prepare you for your encounter."

He swallowed hard. "Got a vanquishing spell?"

"No, Lilith is too powerful for mere spells and potions to affect her. She is Lucifer's first. He poured much of himself into her when he formed her body. Hellequin may have created her, but Lucifer gave her power. She has many of the wraiths' strengths without any of their weaknesses. Only raw power will affect her. And you—you are the first in a long time to harness all four elements with such skill and grace."

Lucien could not help himself. "But I can barely take on a wraith, let alone an empowered version of one."

If they wanted raw power, why not ask Jonathan to do this? Or Wyatt? He was the Twice-Blessed: if anyone was made of power, it would be Wyatt. And he also was heir to Excalibur. That had to make him the perfect candidate to fight the unvanquishable.

As if he could read his mind, Raphael smirked. "Do not sell yourself short, Lucien. You are far more capable than you think. Now, Lilith is an element of air, setting her further apart from the usual wraiths you have fought. Most evil beings are made from fire and water. Only a few were granted the gift of air, and only one was purely air. This makes her all the more difficult to battle. Her gifts of plague and pestilence flow from her control of the air around her."

"If this is a pep talk, dude, you suck at it," Lucien snapped. "All you've told me is that she's a hellish enemy. Okay. Fine. How do I vanquish her?"

Raphael stared him down. "You can't."

"WHAT?"

"Only she can destroy herself."

Lucien, wide-eyed and pissed, bit back a curse or two. "So I have to…"

"I have told you all I can. Now we have to go. She will be arriving shortly."

Back to the Manor with no plan, no help, and no hope. The day was just getting better and better. Then a thought struck him. "Wait! How does this keep the Halliwells from being exposed?"

"The raid was ordered by Lilith. No paperwork. We kill Lilith and the knowledge of the raid no longer exists. Anakin's attack wiped the short-term memories of the agents in the raid, and any others involved in the planning and execution of it have been drowned in memory dust." Raphael grabbed his hand and they blinked.

The Manor was beautiful during sunset. He and Anakin would often sit on the roof and watch the sunset. Now the blood red sky only helped to add to his trepidation. Arriving out of nowhere in the middle of the street did not help matters either.

"What the hell!" He ran onto the sidewalk.

Raphael appeared to be undeterred by his outburst. He casually made his way out of the street. "The Manor is no longer in the possession of Good magic. I could not travel into it."

And the punches just kept coming. "So I'm fighting Lilith on a battleground that is swayed to evil? Just great!"

"Do not be an idiot, Lucien. The Manor as the nexus always intended is now a neutral zone. Neither good nor evil will have an upper hand by battling on these hallowed grounds. Your battle with Lilith will decide if Good or Evil will hold sway over the nexus."

Lucien growled. "Can we get all the bad news out at once? This doling it out over hours is not working for me."

The archangel shrugged. "I believe the Conservatory will serve you best. If you have a choice, do it there. Earth is one of your stronger elements, so being near the gardens will aid you. I will remain out here and make sure you are not disturbed."

On cue, or so it felt, a group of FBI agents came walking up the street. At the head of the group was a woman, a very familiar woman. Lucien stared. Impossible. Anakin would have told him.

"Miley Mabel, ADA." The woman walked with an extra swing in her hips.

Raphael smirked. "A wonderful act, but I remain unimpressed. You want the house? Then the ancient rules must be followed."

Lucien looked at the agents, and they all looked to be in a daze.

"I chased them off the land. The house is mine." She brandished a piece of paper.

Raphael read it. "You know as well as I do that this will not stand up, but you may talk to my guardian inside if you like. I only ask that your consort remain here with me."

Lucien felt a powerful presence invade his mind, or at least try to invade. He slammed his defenses shut and the presence retreated. A glance over at Miley was all the confirmation he needed. "Ladies first."

Raphael gave him a pat on the back as he walked past. He followed Miley up the driveway and into the Victorian mansion. He closed the door behind him and felt the magical seal fall into place.

He had only heard stories of the shadow that lived in the nexus, but he now guessed that it had taken the recent retreat of Anakin and his family to reclaim the Manor for its own. He felt the power surging through the walls and almost forgot that he had another deadly enemy not ten feet in front of him.

"So all the Halliwells to pick from and I get set the runt's little plaything. Raphael must really not like you, Lucien," Miley sneered.

Lucien kept his mouth shut. It would do him no good to egg her on. "The Conservatory is this way. It has a better view."

Miley laughed cold and condescending. "I don't care for a view. As fun as ripping you limb from limb will be I really prefer not to have an audience."

Lucien steadied his wobbly knees. How could he get her to kill herself? More importantly, how had Anakin not known that she was a demon?

"Shall we get on with it? I have a date at an ice-cream parlor to get to." Sarcasm was a wonderful defense mechanism. He had learned that early on from Anakin.

Miley cracked her neck and reached behind her head. Both hands found something to hold onto because the next thing Lucien knew, she was pulling the skin off her face. As the skin fell off and revealed raw flesh, she began to molt in other spots. Skin slid off her arms in big chunks so that it resembled molds of those body parts. Lucien watched in horror as blood seeped through the thin white cotton blouse.

Just when he thought things could not get any worse, skin began to reform over the exposed flesh. But this was not human skin: it was more scale-like and a green-grey. Parts of her skeletal structure reformed as well. Her nose sunk into her skull and a ridge of small horns now crowned her head. Her arms lengthened and her fingers elongated into deadly claws. Her shoes ripped from the inside out as her feet followed the model of her hands.

Finally the hideous transformation ceased, leaving behind a tattooed and deformed monster. She bore her teeth in a roar and Lucien gulped when he saw the sheer number of razor-sharp needle-like projections. If he had been afraid of not being able to win this fight before, any whisper of optimism vanished when he looked at Lilith in all her glory.

"Like my form, witch?" the beast growled.

He gulped again. How was he supposed to fight a thing made out of all the worst parts of his scariest nightmares?

Forget the grotesque shape and nauseating open wounds still festering on her skin—Lilith was huge, even for an ancient hell-borne monster. And then add to the fact that she now held in her clawed hand an exotic weapon a bit over five feet in length. He stood no chance of getting near her to deliver a decisive blow.

At the moment the weapon was stiff as a pole, but he knew from conversations with his brother that it could mold itself into any form. The two most popular models were the sharp-edged staff it currently was, and the other a poison-tipped whip.

She held the pleiomorph behind her back, cocked and ready to whip down on his skull. She locked her completely black gaze on his warm-brown eyes. Her knees were readied to propel her forward, and although she was standing still as a statue, she projected corybantic moves. She clearly was no stranger to brawling.

Lucien took a deep breath. He was destined for this, right? Why else would Raphael have chosen him? That meant somehow he could kill her.

He slipped away from his conscious fears and thoughts just like he had practiced with Jonathan. He needed to get into the mindset of a swordsman, of a battle-hardened warrior. The change did not happen immediately, but it did happen. His fears about losing and dying melted away and were replaced with an ironclad will to win. He breathed out and formed a shiny replica of Excalibur, which he held loosely at his side.

Battles were half psychological, he reasoned. And Lilith was already beating him in that arena. So he began to circle the sulfur-smelling creature slowly in a relaxed, almost contemptuous manner. He allowed his connection with the Earth to steady his emotions and a calmness surged through him. Lilith followed his every move with a predatory gaze.

Time to test the waters.

He stopped with the stairs behind him, smiled cockily, and goaded her into attacking by stepping into range.

The demon moved nearly faster than his eyes could follow, the rigid pleiomorph aimed at the top of his exposed head. He sent a surge of power coursing into his conjured blade and dark blue sparked around it. In a flash he had the empowered blade over his head ready to block the oncoming assault.

Lilith, however, anticipated his actions. She stopped the downward strike and moved forward with a wild slash to his vulnerable throat. Luc was forced to retreat and dropped his blade to intercept the new attack. The blades missed each other, but the demon locked on for a third strike. This time he had to flip back to avoid being hit in the upper thigh. As it was, the pleiomorph scored a graze across his shin.

Stamping and cursing, Lilith attacked again; throwing might behind her blows and ready to beat him into submission. He blocked a powerful blow that carried his blade into the wall behind him. The magic in the blade erupted and a long curved scorch mark was left behind. Piper was not going to be happy.

He ducked a vicious jab that drilled a crater-sized hole into the wall and rolled forward, narrowly missing her clawed feet, and back into the center of the room. Best to try and keep the damage to a minimum. Even as his thoughts drifted, his dangerous opponent was renewing her attacks.

The attacks came in a blur. He was barely able to parry the hits before they landed. Instead of the controlled moves, Lucien was now truly fighting for his life. If he could not get on the offensive soon, he would not survive the duel. Yet despite the grim thought, he continued to smile, taunting the demon into making a mistake.

She suddenly dropped low and swept his feet from under him with a powerful kick. Not foreseeing the attack, he had no way of preparing himself for the fall. He thudded to the floor awkwardly, ready for the inevitable deathblow, but he forgot about the pleiomorph's ability. Instead of rebounding off his blade, the weapon softened and extended its form. The sharp whip cut through his undershirt and drew blood. The poison-filled barb slapped against the floor inches from his head.

He grabbed hold of the whip and pulled. Lilith stumbled forward, and he drove his blade through her knee. Magic exploded around them and sent both of their weapons flying. She tumbled forward, intent on driving her claws through his chest. But he hardened the air above his chest, and her claws shattered against the makeshift shield.

Howling, the demon fell back, nursing her broken hands. Lucien rolled to his feet. A wave of his hand had his sword back in his grasp. This time instead of imbuing it with magic, he formed a layer of air around the blade. He charged forward; she tried to swipe him away. He leaped over her arm and landed on her festering back. Ignoring the urge to vomit at the thought of touching her sick and dying skin, he drove the blade down. It carved right through her skull and only stopped when the hilt hit bone.

The powerful demon went limp and threw him to the floor as she toppled over, dead.

Lucien woke to Raphael holding two glowing hands over his chest. He took a gasping breath as the stabbing pain dissolved into gentle warmth. His next thought was of a certain blond witch.

As if to answer his unasked question, Anakin stepped into view. "Hey!"

He smiled. "Hey."

Anakin knelt down next to him. "Why does he sound so weak?"

"The backlash of the vanquish," Michael replied curtly. "He will be fine after a good night's rest."

The intimidating Power That Be clamped a manicured hand on Raphael's shoulder. "We will be in touch."

There was a soft pop and both angels vanished.

Anakin took his hand in both of his. "From what I have been able to gather, whatever Raphael roped you into worked. We're no longer on the government's watch list. So my family owes you a big thank you."

He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry.

"Relax," Anakin spoke softly. "You heard Michael."

A part of Lucien wanted to talk, to be glib about the senior Power being a woman. But a much stronger part pulled his mind away from the world. There was a moment of silence before he drifted off into the world of dreams.

A sigh of relief left Anakin's lips when his boyfriend finally fell asleep. Lucien had never been one to miss out on the action, but tonight he needed his rest. Thankful for the sleeping draft Raphael had given the elemental before healing him, the witch slipped out of his room. The hallway outside was deserted and dark, only lit by the dim light coming up the stairwell. He paused in front of a picture of his siblings and the aching hole in his heart burned, not from pain but a sense of foreboding. The night was not over yet.

He felt Chris's presence seconds before his brother appeared at the top of the stairs.

"You sense it, too." It was a statement.

He could only nod his head. This whole year had been filled with vague feelings of danger and evil. "Sometimes I wish I was gifted enough in premonitions to just call this one out into the open."

His older brother chuckled. "Well, in all their knowledge, the Powers That Be have not graced us with the knowledge to elicit visions."

Even with the humor in his voice, Anakin knew his brother had not come up here to be coy and take his mind off Lucien. "Mom send you?"

Chris arched an eyebrow. "Dad, actually. We heard about your little showdown with the agents today."

Of course, always the Elder in the worst situations. Anakin pursed his lips. "It was kill or be killed."

"Well it's a good thing you didn't kill any of them, then." Chris took a step closer. He lowered his voice. "We're walking a very thin line. Killing with our powers is forbidden."

He pulled away from Chris's reaching hand. "Don't talk to me about toeing the line. I defended Luc and myself and Mom! You would have been throwing the guys through the walls if you had been there."

Anakin's mood only darkened. The internal debate he had been having since the start of the witch hunt sprang back to life. In the moment he felt he had done the right thing, but since waking up from the bullet wound he had been questioning his decision. Magic was an unfair advantage. Attacking with it made them no better than the demons they swore to protect the world from. But he did not attack out of selfishness or for the thrill of it. It had been self-defense.

Chris noticed that his brother was not paying any attention and shut up. He knew the Elders' position on the whole matter, but the holy-than-thou rulers of the heavens were not the ones being hunted. It was easier to follow the moral road when you were not the one staring down Death's door. All he knew was that Anakin was right: if he had been there, he would not have held back. His family came first.

"Chris," Anakin whispered. "Where's Wyatt?"

The change in subject threw him. He recovered his wits and answered. "He and Sarah had a dinner to attend for her professor."

"And Zach?" He sounded worried.

Chris frowned. "With Mackenzie."

Mackenzie had been a classmate of Wyatt when he attended Magic School. She now ran a small apothecary in the city and provided babysitting for witch parents. In Magic School she had specialized in protection wards and as such had one of the safest houses in all of the West Coast. Even with only four years under her belt, she was the most sought-after child protector in the magical community.

Chris followed Anakin down the stairs. "Why?"

His brother stopped short of the last step. "He's going after Zach."

"Who?"

"Aeglaeca or whatever his name is!"

Chris did not question Anakin's conviction. After all these years he had learned to trust his brother's instincts. He just orbed.

He arrived in a foyer similar to the Manor's own. There was the hint of freshly made tomato sauce in the air, but there was an undertow of something else. For a brief instant he thought Anakin had been wrong. Then he spotted the large scorch mark on the wall. His mind raced as he mentally searched for his nephew. The connection never took this long to form.

"Anything?" Anakin appeared at his side out of blue orbs.

Chris blinked back the tears. "Scorch mark."

Anakin, jaw firmly set, walked toward the kitchen. He rounded the corner and covered his mouth. Blood splattered the walls, roof, and countertops. The scene screamed massacre. He breathed through his mouth in an effort to keep his gag reflex in check. He had seen demon attacks before, but none of them prepared him for this.

In the center of the room spread-eagled lay the beautiful Mackenzie Lark. Her blouse was ripped to shreds. And the deep cut across her jugular explained the blood. But what truly horrified him was the clear evidence that she had been violated. He averted his gaze, clamping down on the trepidation welling up inside.

He reached out for Zach and felt his two-year-old nephew. Terrified, but not in any pain. Aside from that, he could not track the toddler. Fear slightly abated, he returned to Chris's side.

"Zach's not here." He caught his brother's fearful expression. "I can still sense him."

"I can't," Chris muttered.

Anakin opened his mouth to provide some made-up explanation when Wyatt orbed in.

All it took was one glance at his oldest brother. One moment and Anakin watched his big brother's world come crashing down around him. And he was too shocked to provide any form of comfort. They had lost the one person none of them thought was in any danger. The air suddenly became too thin. He turned around and ran.


	12. Headstrong

Headstrong

Darkness enveloped the attic with such suddenness it took Anakin a moment to realize why he was unable to read the page in front of him. Muttering about the Manor's faulty wiring, he felt his way over to the large trunk at the base of the main stain glass window. It took him a couple seconds of searching, but his fingers stumbled upon a candle and in the next moment he had soft candlelight to guide his way. Grabbing one of the small flat plates kept in the attic for such an occasion, he walked over to the card table. Satisfied the candle would not fall over, he circled around and picked up the Book before taking a seat at the table.

Four hours. His two-year-old nephew had been in the hands of demons for four whole excruciating hours.

From below him he could vaguely hear the clumsy movements of his family as they found their way through the dark. His mother was the most vocal, echoing his sentiments about the wiring of the house. Despite the situation, Anakin could not help but crack a smile. His mother had threatened countless times to hire an electrician to rewire the house, but his dad would always talk her out of it. Then time would pass and more pressing matters distracted his mom. Another storm would come and the whole process started all over again.

"Annie?"

The witch looked up from his reading. "Luc! When did you get back?"

"Just before the power died."

Lucien walked to the table and gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek. Worried about Zach, he voiced his concern. "Any word from Wyatt?"

Shaking his head, Anakin shut the Book. "Damn it!"

"It'll all work out. Don't worry," Lucien whispered as he rubbed Anakin's tense shoulders. "It nearly always does."

The comforting shoulder and neck rub continued, and he leaned back into it. A few moments of peace…some time alone. He reached up and caught onto Lucien's neck. He pulled down and looked up, opening his lips ever so slightly. As their lips met, Anakin felt his fears wash away. He deepened their kiss, allowing himself to get lost in the moment. It was probably selfish with his nephew missing, but he wanted—no, needed this. A precious couple of minutes to recharge and clear his head.

Lucien broke the passionate kiss and smirked at the soft moan that escaped his boyfriend's lips.

"Why were you looking at the Hellequin page?"

So much for minutes of uncomplicated bliss, he thought. "Trying to come up with a summoning spell, tracking spell, or something. We find him and we find the Source and, hopefully, Zach."

Luc hesitated for a moment. "Jonathan thinks it's a trap."

Defeat weighed down heavily on Anakin's shoulders. Trap was one of the many conclusions swirling around in his mind. It was one thing to attack Wyatt directly, but quite another to hurt his family. Whoever was behind the kidnapping must have had a damn good reason for risking the wrath of the—no—a Twice Blessed.

He felt exhausted emotionally and physically. He could not remember a time even when Jonathan had been the Source that he had felt so terrified constantly. Terrified for his family, for the world, even for himself. It ate at him until there was nothing left, and he felt numb. Except the numbness never came, the fear just continued to sap his energy.

"I can't lose him. I just can't."

Luc reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. Softly he whispered, "I know."

He held onto the elemental, taking a deep breath. Since the horrible news, he had been working. Now he could not keep going. The monsters had taken his nephew, his poor defenseless nephew, and he could not manage to get angry. He just felt helpless and lost.

A chill ran down his spine, breaking him out of his musings. He pulled away from Lucien.

"Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Luc asked, a confused look on his face.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"That!"

Searching the dimly lit room with his eyes, he ignored the concerned look from Lucien. Paranoid and alive was better than being calm and dead. His eyes traveled over one corner of the room and he spotted a shimmer in the air. He took a step forward, readying a telekinetic blast. With bated breath he took another step forward, hand flexed. Another step.

The shadows darkened and out shot a black swan. He swiped his hand only to have his attack deflected right back at him. The telekinetic punch set him stumbling backwards and saved his life. As he toppled to the ground he noticed a snakelike object with razor thin edges slice through the space his neck had just been occupying. He landed hard but managed to roll away from the descending blow of the weapon. He got another glance at the weapon before it and the shadow swarm vanished into the darkness.

"What the hell!" he yelled, catching his breath.

Lucien, fire ball in hand, dropped down beside him, eyes alert. "Wraith?"

Anakin growled. "Bloody powerful one. Deflected my blast right back at me."

He struggled back to his feet. The anger and shock receded. "You ok?"

"Yeah, fine." The elemental extinguished the fire ball. "But I wasn't the one nearly decapitated."

Despite the dire situation, he smirked. "Aw, did I scare you?"

"Jerk!" Luc playfully punched him in the arm.

He laughed. It was a close call, but he had survived and the unasked questions were answered. The trap was for them, not Wyatt. Thunder rattled the windows and rain began to pound the roof. Anakin stared out at the window; there was movement across the street.

"They're back."

He saw the color fade from Luc's face, but he was not worried. They had planned for this eventuality. Get Leo to Magic School and vanquish as many of the demons as possible before retreating there as well. None of them were going to be the first witch burned at the stake in this modern witch hunt. He grabbed the Book of Shadows and Luc's hand and made for the stairs.

Only as he neared the attic's threshold, a high-heeled boot materialized at chest height and slammed into him. For the second time in almost as many minutes, Anakin crashed into the floor. The rest of the wraith took form in seconds revealing a beautiful almost elfin woman. He stared up at her, the breath completely knocked out of him. She smiled and struck out with the whip-like weapon.

He felt stupid, but he squeezed his eyes shut. There was nothing else he could have done. But instead of feeling the razor edges of the whip cutting into him, he felt an intense heat envelop him. He peeked out to find himself encased in a layer of white-hot flames, which blinked out of existence a moment later. A shift of his head revealed a panting Lucien glaring at the female wraith.

The wraith chuckled airily. "Impressive, but I expected nothing less from the elemental to vanquish Lilith."

As she spoke the whip stiffened and grew into a six-foot long staff with nasty looking barbs covering both ends. She twirled the weapon expertly over her head and struck out at Lucien with the weapon: a pleiomorph. Anakin focused his mind and formed a shield around his boyfriend. The staff struck the invisible shield and broke in two. He kicked out at the distracted wraith and knocked her legs out from under her.

"Thanks," Luc muttered, pulling him to his feet.

He grinned and called for his sword hidden in the secret room of Jonathan's apartment. The sword appeared in a flurry of blue orbs, and he prepared to deliver the fatal blow to the wraith, but she melted into the floor.

"Maybe next time, kiddies." Her sweet voice echoed in the still attic.

Anakin cursed, and continued to as the sound of the front door being smashed blasted up from downstairs. He charged down the stairs, not checking to see if Lucien was following him. He had to reach his dad before any of the invaders did. He rounded the corner and ran into Chris.

"Shit!"

"Sorry."

"Annie?"

"Chris."

Voices drifted up from the foyer.

Anakin stared at his brother, fear erasing any last wisps of confidence.

"Where's the Book?" Chris breathed.

Luc reached them. "Got it."

"SHH!"

"Sorry."

Chris tapped the Book twice and it disappeared. Only a handful of people had been able to get the Book out of the house. Chris was one of them. "I'll get dad. You two go make sure Mom's OK."

The three witches nodded and slunk down the stairs. Once in the foyer Chris headed for the kitchen, while he and Luc went in search of his mother. It only took two steps before they met their first resistance. A man in black clothes and an assault rifle stepped into their path.

"HALT!"

Anakin whipped his hand down fast. The man crumpled to the floor as if a truck had been dropped on top of him. For a moment he felt sick, using his powers to harm a mortal. But only for a moment: he could not afford to hold back. The witch hunters certainly would not show him any mercy.

The man's partner stepped into view, and Lucien struck out with a blast of air. The man sailed into the infamous grandfather clock, breaking it in a loud crash. He slumped to the floor unconscious. Three more hunters converged on them, and the battle began in earnest.

Anakin swept his hand around to catch one of their attackers in the throat. The attack dropped the uniformed man to his knees. He kicked out, snapping the man's head back. He watched him collapse limply to the floor before turning to face his next assailant. Only the person he came face to face with was not another hunter, but the wraith from the attic.

"Back for more?" he yelled to suppress his astonishment.

The female wraith did not blink an eye; she struck out with ruthless intensity. He could do nothing to get out of the way, but he nevertheless tried to. A knee to his stomach knocked the wind out of him, and the punch that hit his temple made him see stars. He found himself sprawled on the floor with the wraith leering over him.

"That the best you got, Halliwell?" she mocked.

Anakin did not bother to respond. A flick of his wrist and the pommel of his sword crushed the back of her neck. Shadows spewed further, withering as they spread. He rolled back and landed in a low crouch.

The wraith's form distorted as the damage was repaired. That was the moment he was waiting for: the single moment when she would be completely defenseless, at least in theory. He threw a fire ball at her, pouring as much energy and hatred into it. The basketball-sized inferno sprang out of his palm and spluttered against the inky void that had surrounded her.

He held his breath, hoping.

Then the shadows shifted, growing lighter. Black turned to grey. To a blinding white. He shut his eyes and covered his ears from the glass-shattering shriek emanating from the white ball of fire. A wave of intense heat washed over him. Nerves screamed in protest, but he did not move to shield his body. He had to make sure that it had worked. The light faded away, and he opened his eyes.

Where the wraith had been standing was nothing. No scorch mark. No pile of ashes. Nothing. The vanquish was too intense to not have left any evidence. Even if the demon had been atomized, there were always remnants. Proof.

"Anakin!"

He blinked and slowly turned to acknowledge the call.

"ANA—" The call choked off.

And he was back to reality. Across the room, Lucien was battling two massive witch hunters, and one of them had the elemental in a stranglehold. Energy crackled around his fingertips. No one was taking his family away from him today. The thinnest of lines briefly connected his finger to the man. The man jolted away from Lucien and dropped to the floor.

He readied another bolt to immobilize the second, but the man posed no threat to Lucien. Dropping his hand, he allowed the crackling energy to dissipate and fade into nothingness. Tiredly, he walked over to a coughing Luc.

"Ok?" he breathed heavily.

Luc nodded, swallowing hard. "Damn hunter caught me off guard."

He kneeled down. "Let me see."

Luc hesitated, visibly shaking. Slowly he peeled his hands away from his neck.

Anakin cringed. He had seen innocents die with less damage than that. He carefully extended his hand and fueled the healing power with his love for Lucien. After a minute he stopped, lightheaded.

"Better?"

Lucien managed a soft, "Yes."

They were alone. The lull before the next wave, but he could not wait for them to come to him. His mother was still somewhere in the house, presumably fighting. He needed to keep moving.

"Let's go." He nodded his head in the direction of the conservatory.

They crept into the room to find its occupants frozen. Piper stood in the center administering a potion of her own design to a group of three female hunters. She appeared to be in perfect control of the situation, wafting the fumes of the potion into the women's faces. The three women were unfrozen from the neck up and shouting curses at the calm Halliwell matriarch.

"Mom!"

Anakin ran over, careful to not bump one of the frozen humans. He reached her and gave her a brief hug.

"Chris finding your father?"

He nodded, taking hold of Luc's hand when the elemental reached them. "Need help?"

Before she could answer a howl echoed through the room, shattering the last few intact windows. Three massive wolf wraiths materialized near the conservatory's doors. Shadows stretched out from their paws and engulfed the hunters, leaving the witches alone with the three wraiths.

Anakin positioned himself in front of his mother and Lucien, bringing his sword to bear. One of the wraiths prowled forward, shadows shifting over its body until a tall deformed human took the wolf's place. The muscular wraith conjured a pleiomorph and snapped it into a stiff staff form. It, because he could not determine if it was a male or female, smiled, revealing thousands of needle-like teeth.

Recognizing the gesture for what it was, he accepted the challenge. He let go of Lucien's clammy hand and stepped into the makeshift dueling ring. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream and energized his muscles for another fight. A deep breath calmed his jitters. He had bested a wraith before; he could do it again.

This wraith unlike the one he had faced before was in no hurry to spring an attack. Instead they circled each other, waiting for an opportunity. He sized up his opponent, taking note of the numerous battle scars and missing nose. Whether this meant anything for creatures that were made of shadows he did not know, but it nevertheless was still intimidating.

He made the first jab, a powerful lunge that carried him straight at the wraith's chest. As expected his attack was easily deflected, but he twisted around and drove in a second attack from the side. The wraith vanished and reappeared just out of reach of his blade.

Not missing a beat, the wraith spun its weapon over its head. He saw his mistake and pulled his arm back, but the strike still hit. Despite having much of the force deflected by his own blade, the pleiomorph still hit his arm with enough strength to break it. He dropped his sword as numbness spread through his whole arm.

The wraith pressed its advantage and swung the pleiomorph at his head. The weapon mutated into a deadly whip. The cords arched through the air and circled with the intent to sever his head from his shoulders. He ducked and threw a telekinetic blast at the cords. The whip passed so close that he could feel the air disturb the hairs on the back of his neck.

He slammed his right foot into the ground, adding energy to the impact. The resulting ground shake unbalanced the wraith. As it was recovering, he reclaimed his dropped sword.

Left-handed, he was a terrible fighter, but it was better than facing the wraith without a weapon. He could hear his mother and Lucien shouting at him. Already at a severe disadvantage, he could not afford to acknowledge them, as it would spell his doom. So he ignored them and planned his next attack.

The wraith plowed forward. He twisted to the side, conjured an athame, and stuck it between the demon's shoulders.

It howled and grazed him with its weapon. The barbs sunk into his arm and ripped out chunks of flesh. He bit back a yelp and crushed its knee with his foot. He jumped away from any counterattack.

The wraith glared at him with intense yellow eyes. A loud popping sound followed its leg realigning underneath its body. An unnatural reach behind its back produced the bloodied athame. It grinned and a forked tongue flickered over its teeth.

"Painful, isn't it?" But it was not the wraith in front of him talking.

Anakin whipped around to find the female wraith he had believed vanquished standing with a talon held against his mother's neck. The two wolves guarded an unconscious Lucien. His breath caught in his throat.

The wraith tilted her head to one side. "Go find the others."

"He is mine, Phenex!" the toothy wraith growled.

Phenex grinned, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Iciness sucked the air out of his lungs before his back was warmed by the licks of vanquish flames. She sighed heavily. "Such a waste. He was proving to be such a good commander."

Her gaze fell intently back on him. "But that is for Beast to concern himself with. I'm here to arrest you and your family for being witches."

He found his voice. "And what's the punishment for being a bitch?"

Humor glinted in her eyes. She dropped her talon away from Piper's neck and pushed the matriarch toward Anakin. "I believe you call it irony, Anakin Halliwell."

With his mother back at his side he could breathe again. He cast a glance at Lucien; the two wraiths had vanished. All he had to do was vanquish Phenex, and they would be home free.

"Sorry to disappoint," Phenex whispered, "but escape won't be that easy."

She produced a small dagger. A flick sent the blade hurtling at him. He gasped and felt it penetrate. It dug up under his ribs, ripping through his diaphragm. It must have nicked his lung because he suddenly could not breathe. The pain exploded through his chest. He dropped to his knees, his mother at his side.

NO! He refused to let this demon beat him. He had survived a bullet wound; this athame would not kill him. Fury boiled over and washed away the pain. He raised his good arm and a wave of telekinesis swept across the room. The wall of power reached the preening wraith and shattered her physical appearance. Shadow clouds burst throughout the room, retreating to the safety of dark corners.

"Luc," he gasped. "Get Luc."

His mother offered no argument and left his side. He pulled out the dagger and tossed it to the side. He orbed his shirt off himself and stuffed it into his wound, stemming the flow of blood. Pure determination kept him from blacking out from the pain every time he breathed, but he had bigger concerns.

The Manor had gone silent. No yelping. No scraping of feet. No screams. Only the pounding of the rain on the roof and the howling wind kept him from believing he had gone deaf. Their enemy was regrouping, and they had to also.

He struggled to his feet, keeping his shirt stuffed against his stomach with his broken arm. In his other hand he held his sword, a safety net from the oppressive darkness. Slowly, he stumbled his way over to his mom and Lucien.

"He OK?"

His mom nodded, concern blooming in her eyes.

"I'm fine. We need to find Chris and Dad."

But his appeal was muted the moment he uttered it.

"No need, we're right here." Chris walked out of the darkness, leaning heavily on his father.

Anakin pulled out a potion in a plastic vial and tossed it over to his brother. He pulled out another. "Pick-me-up."

Chris shrugged and downed the potion. "They shut access to Magic School," he said as he lowered himself down next to Lucien. "And they can track orbing, pulled me back four times before I finally gave up."

"Enough," Leo commanded. "You're both injured."

Anakin blinked; he had never seen his father be so forceful. "I'm fine, Dad."

"No, you're not." Leo laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now let me see your stomach."

He grimaced and pulled back his ruined shirt. The wound was jagged at its edges, but no longer seeping blood. "See? Not bad."

Leo narrowed his eyes. "I'll be the judge of that."

"Dad, really it'll be fine." He stared at his father.

The wound shrunk as if to support him.

"The potion. It's a healing potion."

He nodded through the pain as the bones in his arm reset. "Rejuvenating potion of Aunt Paige's design."

"Could've used a bit more willow bark," Chris grunted.

Piper stood up from her crouch over Lucien. "Where'd they go?"

"Regrouping. Planning how to get at us next."

Chris added his agreement with their dad's assessment. "Wards are still up. We're stuck here until they're not."

"What was up with those pleiomorphs? Jonathan said they'd use them, but damn, they pack a punch." Anakin leaned back against the wall.

"It'd help to have Wy here," Chris confessed.

That got a chuckle from everyone.

"Probably why they kidnapped Zach. Split us up, make us easier to pick off," Anakin offered his insight with closed eyes.

Even with the potion, the night had drained him, and it was not simply physical exhaustion. Concern over his family was wearing on his emotional state. He looked over at his mother and father: the inseparable duo, the couple that defied the Elders and won. Life without one or the other was unimaginable. His mother's tenacity and compassion complemented his father's calm demeanor and selflessness.

His eyes drifted to the still form of Lucien. He loved the elemental; there was no shadow of doubt in his mind. But he wondered if they would ever have the love that existed between his parents.

Chris interrupted his daydream. "We should move to the kitchen."

A cold dread filled his chest at the suggestion. It felt wrong. The kitchen was the last place they should use as their last stand. Yet logically, it made sense. They had plenty of ammunition: potions were stockpiled by the thousands. And the smaller space would cut out the usefulness of the wraiths' pleiomorphs. So why was every fiber of his being telling him not to go into the kitchen?

"Chris, I'm—"

He was cut off by an explosion that showered him in splinters and chunks of wall.

"DOWN, DOWN!"

From the hole in the Manor's wall poured in witch hunters, armed with weapons he had only seen in war movies. He saw his mother step up and try to freeze the humans, but they kept on spewing forth from the breach. A man pulled his trigger; he felt the intent as if it was his own. He shoved his mother aside as a bullet whizzed past her by inches.

"Go!" he screamed.

He conjured a whirlwind, blinding the hunters. He ran back, keeping low, and stopped behind Luc. The elemental was still unconscious. He heaved and pulled his boyfriend through the doorway, all the while plucking up random pieces of debris and throwing it into the crowd of black armored men and women.

He desperately pulled Lucien into the next room and tucked him safely behind the wall. Then he reached up and out with his telekinesis, felt the aged wood beams still holding the crumbling roof up. He splintered the beams with an exertion of will and dove behind the wall as well. Screams of horror and rage were drowned out by the crash of wood, flooring, and collapsing ceiling. The rumble died and the screams were replaced by groans and gurgles.

He gagged, horrified at the ease of taking that many lives. Disgusted with himself for killing so many humans, he crawled over to Lucien. They would have killed him, killed his family, but they were just pawns carrying out orders. And he had crushed them, giving many agonizing deaths even if medics arrived in time to save most of the attackers.

"You had no choice."

Lucien was awake.

"I know," he lied.

The elemental pulled him closer and gave him a soft kiss. "You. Had. No. Choice."

A tear streaked down his cheek. "We need to get out of here."

He got up and dried his eyes before helping Luc to his feet. Together they entered the kitchen and a horror scene.

Chris was hanging out the window, blood dribbling into the sink beneath. Piper was locked in a struggle to keep a wraith from stabbing a knife through her throat. Leo. Anakin's knees buckled. He had not even felt it! His father lay on the floor facedown with a wound the size of his fist in his back.

He seized hold of Luc's shirt and pulled himself up. He shoved the elemental toward his mother as he ran to his father's side.

"No, Dad. No," he hissed.

The tears burned his eyes. He dropped down next to his father. Please, God. He placed his hands on the wound, willing it to heal. The acidic poison burned into his palms, but he refused to yield. Don't do this, Dad. You can't do this!

He knew it was useless, that his dad was gone. The body before him was not his dad, but he could not stop. He would not accept that his dad was dead.

A pleiomorph, its edges rounded, struck him in the face. He fell back, throbbing pain blinding his sight.

"Pity you didn't kill me, Anakin Halliwell," the voice of Phenex mocked him.

He lashed out with fury and hatred. Energy swept out of him, leaving him hollow and alone. His vision cleared to reveal Phenex stuck to the roof, impaled by her own weapon, a small smile still etched on her lips.

He would not leave it to chance again. He gathered another attack, an attack worthy of his father. Blue orbs encircled his hand, but he did not attack. He poured his all into the orbs of power until they changed from dark blue to a brilliant white. They sucked light into them, darkening the room. He caught one in his other hand and threw it with all his might into the wraith that had murdered his father.

Feral joy washed over him as Phenex screamed in agony as his whitelighter light slowly burned her from the inside out. But he did not waste his time with watching her death: the screams were enough satisfaction. He took aim and released the three remaining deadly orbs. Each struck home and ended the lives of the remaining three wraiths.

He knelt down next to his father's corpse and broke down. The tears fell freely; his father deserved that. No bottling up his emotions. No acting cool and in charge of the turmoil inside. He could not. Not about this.

A hand shook his shoulder, but he batted it away. He did not need distractions and comfort. He wanted the world to leave him alone and let him weep.

"ANAKIN!"

Damn it, Lucien. He glared at his boyfriend, eyes filled with tears.

Lucien hesitated. "Ann, Chris needs you." His voice shook.

It took a moment for it to register. His mind was numb, totally absorbed in grief. He noticed the blood soaking the elemental's shirt and clinging to his hands. A glance at the window proved that Chris had been moved.

"But Dad…"

Lucien grabbed him roughly. "Leo's dead. I'm sorry, but we'll lose Chris too if you don't heal him."

The shock of Lucien actually saying it unsettled him. Hearing it aloud, it made the reality of it all the more permanent. This was not some horrid nightmare. His dad was dead.

"ANAKIN!"

He found Chris, battered and cut. A towel was wrapped around his arm, already soaked through with blood. The scene kick started his brain.

"God."

He poured healing power into his brother. Wounds knitted themselves back together as he slowly ran his hands over Chris's injured body. Color returned to his brother's face and relief temporarily dulled the ache in his chest. He stopped a minute later, leaving superficial wounds to nature's will.

"Mom?" Chris gasped.

Anakin shrugged.

"She's here," Lucien answered. "A pleiomorph barb got her."

"Poisoned?" Chris asked, worried.

Their mother leaned around the island. "Burns like a…"

Anakin didn't catch the last of the colorful phrase. He was busy digging through the potion collection for antidotes. Chris offered some advice, but he could not hear. He had to find the potion, any potion. But he was yanked out of the cupboard.

"Annie, we need to go," Chris growled. "More are coming."

"Mom needs an antidote."

His brother's eyes glazed over for a moment. And he saw the sadness.

"_No_, Chris."

"Only Wyatt can cure her."

He knew that. The toxin coating some pleiomorph barbs was resistant to most forms of magical healing. Only Wyatt had been able to save the rabbit they had injected with some of the stuff. Jonathan's way of proving to them that not getting hit was the best way to survive an encounter with a pleiomorph. But he could not give up on his mother.

"The ward is down," Chris spoke slowly. "You orb somewhere in the wilderness. They'll track you so you have to run. Don't use magic. Keep running until they can't track you anymore. Then get to Phoebe's."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to find Wyatt." And he orbed out.

Anakin caught Luc's eyes. Dear God let us survive the night. He orbed out, picking up Luc and his mother along the way.

Another crashing roar of thunder had barely died down enough for Anakin to catch the whirring hum of the witch hunter's stun bolt racing at him. He dropped down and twisted around to face the oncoming assault. He barely telekinetically nudged the crackling bundle of energy before he felt the telltale wisp of moist air tickle his cheek and ozone assaulted his nostrils. That had been too close.

A flash of lightning revealed the shiny silver edge of another state-of-the-art piece of technology. The cockroach-shaped assassin robot sprouted legs from tiny cracks in the metallic exoskeleton and began to free itself from its hiding spot buried in a dead tree stump. How'd they know we'd flee in this direction? Knowing when the bug finally released itself he would stand no chance in stopping it without great magical effort, Anakin sprinted forward and smashed the bug with the pommel of his athame. A glowing purple fluid oozed from underneath the blade and began to send off noxious fumes as it ate away at the metal.

Swallowing the urge to heave at the smell, he dropped the corroding blade and ran back along the trail forged by his mother and Lucien. He just prayed that whoever had fired at him was slower than he was. Exhaustion and sorrow ate at his resolve to keep moving. If it came to a fight, he was unsure he had the mental and physical strength to beat back his opponent.

Dad! He thought sadly. The memory of seeing his dad in the kitchen, eyes lifeless, it was all too reminiscent of Leo's death in the other timeline.

The endless track he was following was nothing more than a dried up stream which was quickly refilling. Reaching forward, he grabbed hold of a thorn-covered branch. Pain shot up his arm. Ignoring it, he dragged himself out of the water's path. While rolling further away from the precarious bank, he spotted his mother not too far off. She also was collapsed on the muddy floor. She had paled drastically since he had left her and Lucien to lead some of their pursuers in a different direction. The poison was clearly working faster than any of them had anticipated.

He struggled to his feet and glanced around for Lucien. He found the elemental some distance off searching for the easiest path through the bushes. He left his boyfriend to that and focused on his mother. Walking over, he bent down and produced a small potion vial, the last one he had on him.

"Drink this, Mom. They're right behind us."

"They're always right behind us, except when they're in front of us," Piper grumbled, but nevertheless downed the potion. Some color returned to her face, although not as much as he had hoped.

He helped her to stand up. "We need to keep moving."

He pushed onward, following Lucien. He wished he could orb them all out of here, but he knew it would be useless. The government clearly had known much more about magic than they had let on. Any orb trail would easily be followed. Their best bet was to lose the witch hunters in the underbrush and then deal with the wraiths when they were out of the sensor range of the magic radars.

He thought briefly of Chris and hoped he would find Wyatt soon. Estimating half the attack group at the Manor was now pursuing them, there was no way he would be able to hold them off without his brothers. With his telepathy shut down he felt very alone. He would not even know if Zach was rescued until told in person. He wrapped his arms around himself not just to protect himself from the bitterly cold rain and wind.

Two stun bolts exploded against the ground in front of him.

Anakin pushed his mother forward. "Go, GO!"

He watched as she scrambled up the next couple dozen yards of the steep incline before leaning against a rock to catch her breath. After a second she darted forward, never looking back. He hoped she was following Luc because he had lost him.

He headed up after her, keeping his sense both magical and natural on high alert. These nearly open inclines were where they were most vulnerable. By the time he clawed his way over the edge of the miniature cliff, his mother was already vanishing around a bend in the trail. He pushed himself, knowing he had to catch up, and started running after her. He reached the bend when he felt the ground beneath him tremble.

Anakin spun, calling his sword from wherever he had dropped it. The magically imbued weapon sprang in his hand and a moment later, his magic was surging through the metal, intertwining with the spell cast by Chris. Purple sparks danced along the edges of his blade. He parried a haphazard hack from the lean wraith. He ducked under the next strike before throwing himself at the wraith's midsection. His blade rebounded off the wraith's magical armor. Sparks flew from the point of contact, and the smell of burning hair reached his nose.

The wraith sprang back while whipping his sword forward. The blade caught him on his left forearm, leaving a superficial laceration. Another slash drove him further back. He tripped and fell; his weapon slipped out of sight. Fear crushed his chest.

The armored male rose to a towering height and Anakin gulped. He looked up at his attacker and saw the triumph in his gleaming red eyes. He watched the wraith raise his sword to deliver the final blow. The fatigue welcomed the end, but the rest of him was not ready to die. Not like this. He found the inner strength to redirect all his pain and grief into a telekinetic shove.

The huge boulder the wraith stood on rolled back. It hung on for a moment more, enough time for him to see the surprise spread across his would-be killer's face before continuing to roll down the mountain, spilling the demon forward. He landed hard on his face, sending mud flying in all directions. As he tried to recover, Anakin caught him with a bone-snapping kick. The wraith let out a furious scream as he toppled off the cliff and into the darkness below.

Anakin moved away from the edge, breathing heavily. After a moment he collected himself and his sword and set off to find Luc and his mother. Already exposed thanks to the battle, he opened himself to his telepathic link with his mother. Only all he could find was a built up wall and a vague sense of which direction she was in. That fact sent his mind reeling. For his mother to have closed herself off even from her family told him just how on how much she was suffering.

For the hundredth time that night, fear wrapped its all too familiar fingers around his pounding heart. Yet he could not wallow in self-doubt and sadness, they needed to keep going. There was no way he was losing his mother! Not after watching his dad die only hours before. He was not losing another family member tonight. He was too weak to heal his mother alone, but with the addition of his brothers they stood a chance of combating the poison. And so he had to buy time by keeping as much distance between her and their pursuers.

Renewed determination helped energize sore muscles. He picked up his pace. Another thirty minutes and they could be out of range. And it appeared that the only chasers he had met for a while were magical in their own right. While not out of the woods, he did feel some relief ease his clenched stomach. He plunged into a new section of thicket, gaining some relief from the incessant rain.

The weather had coupled with the night's events to make their flight the most miserable experience Anakin could remember. The rain had started moments after he, Luc, and Piper escaped the Manor. And its intensity had not lessened even though their escape had been over three hours ago. It was not the first time he wondered if the bad guys had a few elementals on their team. The weather just seemed to be too unnatural to not be the product of some magic. Another psychological attack to keep him from ever feeling warm and safe.

The trail broadened out into a small plateau of sorts. He stopped to get his bearings. The whole area was out of some horror movie, dark and foreboding. Tall boulders perched along the edge of a small dirt, now muddy, road. Towering cliffs then surrounded the boulders, giving him the sense of walking into an arena.

The stage was set for a big confrontation: he could feel it in his bones. He expanded his magical awareness, but found no obvious trap. He did sense his mother and Luc off to his left. Alert for surprise attacks, he jogged off to find them.

When Piper spotted her baby appear out of the inky darkness, she gave him a smile; a weak one, if his grimace was anything to go by. She tried to rise, but no longer had the energy. She settled for fingering aside a wet strand of dark brown hair and waiting for him to reach her. When he did, she took a moment to study him, and was proud to see defiance and strength burning brightly despite the horrors of the night. Even if she succumbed to the poison flowing through her system, she knew that he would be able to carry on the fight. Her family would be in capable hands when her time came. The only wish she had was that the burden had not fallen to him. It was just so unfair. He was her baby.

Then she spotted the shadows move, and the remaining blood drained from her face.

Anakin detected his mother's fear and squared his shoulders. He knew what that look meant: wraiths. He turned surely to face the latest danger.

Out of the darkness strode three of the most scarred and disfigured wraiths he had ever seen. They were all dressed in the customary black armor of the strike force that had followed them all the way from the Manor. The difference with these three was the weapon of choice. So far he had faced guns, potions, fire balls, and swords, but these carried pleiomorphs. He eyed the dangerous weapon, feeling suddenly very enraged. His dad had been killed by a pleiomorph-carrying wraith.

He did not spare a glance over his shoulder. "Luc!" He knew the elemental could not be that far. "LUC! Get my mom out of here."

"Hell no!" his mom snapped. "You can't take them alone. Get your sword ready; I'll distract the one on the left."

"I've got the one of the right." Orange highlights on the wraiths announced Lucien's presence.

Anakin empowered his sword, still not glancing back. "NO, Luc, damn it! Get her out of here."

But that was all the time he could spend arguing with them. The demons were getting dangerously close for him not to be concentrating solely on them. Open, deep breaths washed away any concerns for his family's safety. Another cooled his rage into hatred. Exactly as he had practiced with Jonathan, he let himself sink into the fight. Nothing else existed but him and the three wraiths.

A comforting calm settled over him as he brought his hands together on his blade's hilt. He knew, in a far off almost philosophical manner, that he would not survive this fight without any aid. But it did not matter. The wraiths would focus on him and give Lucien a chance to get his mom away from here. One more bout of Charmed luck and he could rest in peace.

He increased the flow of magic into his blade. The metal began to hum with a higher resonance and it glowed violet. No longer just sparks jumping along the edge, the sword actually glowed. Making sure to keep his power flowing into the blade, he positioned himself to meet the oncoming slaughter.

The light cast of from his sword illuminated all of the wraiths. He observed no difference between any of them, no way to pick out the weakest one. So being scientific about the matter, he chose the one right in front of him. He impatiently bobbed his blade up in a come-hither movement.

The chosen wraith smirked victoriously and twirled his pleiomorph over his head dramatically. The weapon lengthened into the form of a staff as the wraith raced forward. Anakin smiled smugly; his plan fell into place. A small gesture called lightning down from the raging storm above. It struck the upraised staff, sending the wraith flying backwards. Smoke poured off the body before it ruptured, releasing the stored magic inside.

One down, two to go. Anakin spared a glance backward. Both Lucien and his mother were no longer there. He breathed a sigh of relief. He focused on the mesmerizing hum of his sword to clear his thoughts. Two against one was better odds. If he played everything just right, he might make it out alive.

Pivoting on his foot, he thrust at the wraith on his right. The demon easily leapt back, but as before, that had been his plan. A twitch of his hand and the demon's leap carried him into one of the teeth-like boulders. As the wraith slumped to the ground, Anakin dropped and rolled to his left to avoid the razor-cutting end of the final wraith's pleiomorph.

Missing must have angered the wraith, because the next instant the deformed demon charged. He rose up quickly and brought his sword around to impale the oncoming wraith. Magic burst out in a flash of white and purple light when his sword connected with the black armor.

Despite the display of power, the armor held, preventing the tiring witch from vanquishing another opponent. But the wraith did double over from the force of the blow and cracks emanated from the point of contact. Anakin somersaulted backwards over a wave of telekinetic energy sent by the wraith.

Landing gracefully next to the wraith, he had slammed into the rock and brought his blade up to block. Only he was too slow, so he cartwheeled out of danger, earning only a graze instead of a cut off arm. Biting back pain, he twisted and smashed his sword brutally into the wraith. Again the armor refused to yield, and he was forced to simply cut the legs out from under the demon, dumping him to the floor.

He kicked out with all his might, catching his fallen foe on the side of the head. The blow was powerful enough to break any demon's neck, but not this one. The wraith gathered his limbs back under him. Anakin cut to the left, dodging a barrage of punches. But he was too distracted to notice the wraith's legs, which scythed through his own ankles and knocked him down.

Now at a severe disadvantage, he slashed widely at the wraith, but the demon danced out of reach. Giving up on his current tactic, he tried to roll onto his stomach, but the wraith rushed forward. A heavy boot caught his wrist and pain shot through it, toppling him back into the mud. Broken again! He wanted to scream in annoyance, but that would require breathing. He slipped out from under the wraith's foot and lay on his back, cradling his broken wrist.

His killer towered over him, pleiomorph back in hand. It stiffened, and the edges became razor sharp. Basking in conquest, the wraith raised the weapon over his head. A wheezy, merciless laugh echoed through the suddenly calm night. The demon whipped the sword down with such force he knew he would be cleaved in two.

Had it struck.

The crackling spark of brilliant blue flashed across Anakin's face revealing Excalibur in all its glory. The ancient blade severed the descending pleiomorph. Wyatt spun around and swiped his sword through the wraith's unprotected neck. The body burst into dark flames before it collapsed to the ground and misted away.

Further back, Chris leapt off one of the many boulders. His aim true, his feet impacted squarely against the back of the last surviving wraith. He conjured an athame and drove it into the back of the wraith's head. The body beneath him squirmed in its death throes before settling into a pile of ash.

Wyatt bent down and helped him onto his feet. He gave Anakin a quick smile and handed him his sword. "Ever consider a job in show business? You put on quite a show."

Anakin's eyes shot skyward in a world record eye roll. "Thanks. Where's Zach?"

"Safe," Wyatt said, offering his hand.

Anakin gave his consent, and Wyatt set to work healing him the best he could. Some of the wounds were probably laced with potion rendering whitelighter powers useless. But his wrist reset itself and that was enough for Anakin. "And Mom?"

Chris joined them. "With Zach."

Wyatt lowered his hand. "As are Lucien and Sarah. But we need to get going. There is another troop heading our way."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Any closer and they'd be able to track us."

"Grab one of those pleiomorphs. We need to find their wee—" Anakin started before exhaustion overtook him.

Wyatt and Chris caught him, and Wyatt lifted him off his feet. "Grab one, Chris."

Chris reached out his hand and a pleiomorph snapped into his palm. Nodding, he orbed out back to their family.


	13. Last Dance

Last Dance

Death had an interesting effect on the Halliwell family. It was not an uncommon event and for many, it was a far too common an event, but that did not make it any easier to deal with. There was no immunity built up. Instead the raw pain and loss galvanized the family to stick closer, fight harder, and cry together.

So when Anakin woke up from his nightmarish sleep, he was not surprised to find his Aunt Phoebe sitting next to him whispering to a red-eyed Patricia.

Phoebe must have noticed him wake up because she moved closer. "Hi, sweetie. How're you feeling?"

The ache in his heart flared, but he choked it down. He could weep later. "Sore."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Patricia sat down in front of him and rubbed his shoulder. "I can't imagine what it…" She sniffed and stood up quickly.

He watched her make a beeline for the door.

Phoebe sighed. "She's struggling with her empathy."

A part of him knew he should react and say that it was all right, but he could not bring himself to care. He had lost his father, not her.

"I'll go get Chris," Phoebe said.

He gave her a slow nod, not trusting his voice. His brother. He was probably beating himself up for what happened. But no one could have done anything to stop it. Deep in his gut he knew that no matter who had been in the kitchen when it happened, he or she would not have been able to change Leo's fate. It was not Chris's fault they had lost their father. And the demon responsible was dead, revenge swift and just.

"Ann," came a hesitant voice.

He turned and saw Lucien standing awkwardly in the doorway. All he could manage was a half smile.

"Hey."

A part of him was overjoyed with seeing the elemental: someone he could lean on in this tumultuous time. Another part argued that he was a distraction. There were more important things to be focusing on. His family was in danger.

Chaos. His mind and heart were in chaos.

Lucien pulled him into a tight embrace. Anakin buried his head into his shoulder and let loose. The apathy mask fell away, and the emotions washed over him. His dad. He had lost his daddy. One of the very few people who had always been there for him. No matter what was going on, he knew he could turn to his father for advice. Now…now, that was no longer possible. He felt rudderless and empty, and entirely too broken to hold it all together.

Lucien was just there for him. He did not say anything, and rubbed circles on his back.

It took him a few moments to realize that his boyfriend had stopped and was in fact talking to someone. Sniffling, he pulled away and saw Chris sitting in the chair previously occupied by their aunt.

"…I don't know. Mom's locked herself in the room. She won't even look at me."

Lucien reached over and squeezed Chris's balled fists. "It wasn't your fault."

Chris cleared his throat, hiccupped, and furiously wiped away a tear. "I was protecting him. Me. I should have found a way. I—I..."

The numbness he had felt on seeing his cousin suffering under the sway of grief did not return. His big brother needed him; he needed to understand. He was not to blame him for their dad's death, and anyone who said as much were idiotic assholes, even if that person was their mother. Although he seriously doubted their mother really blamed Chris for what happened to Leo.

"There was nothing you could do," he whispered.

Chris looked up at him, and Anakin could see the surprise and hope in those green-grey eyes. It felt like a punch in the gut. How could Chris even for a second believe he'd blame him for any of this? If anyone should be shunned and glared at, it was him. He was the one who was supposed to protect the family. After all, he had done it before.

"But—"

He interrupted his brother. "No, Chris, not a damn thing."

"I should have…" Chris trailed off.

"Should have what?" Anakin asked sharply. "Because even if Michael himself had been there, Dad still would have died. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing any of us could have done. We were outnumbered and outgunned. The only reason we escaped was dumb luck and chance."

He ended his tirade abruptly, too shocked to continue. Across from him he saw that his outburst had thrown his brother for a loop as well. He shook his head.

"We survived, and that is all Dad would want from us. So stop blaming yourself, alright? It's not doing us any good."

Not waiting for a reply he stood up and walked out the room. He continued his brisk pace past questioning family members until he reached the door to his aunt's room. Without preamble, he blasted the door off its hinges. There was a shriek, but he ignored it and strode purposely over the splintered ruins. Once inside he snapped his fingers and the door snapped back into place, completely fixed.

"We need to talk," he all but growled.

A broken version of his mother looked back at him from the bed, and for a moment, he hesitated.

"Annie?" she choked out.

He steeled himself. "You need to stop this."

"Wh—what?"

He took a step closer to her and allowed his shoulders to slump. "He's gone, Mom, but we're not. And you have a son out there that needs you."

To his horror, she did not rise to the occasion like all those times before. Instead, she buried her face in a pillow and waved him away. The young witch stood with mouth ajar staring at the scene.

"I'm not kidding. Chris is distraught, and you're not helping any."

"Go away, please," she pleaded.

He felt a lump form in his throat. "We need to be together."

She sat up, and for a brief moment he saw the fiery determination return to her eyes. "He's gone. My Leo, m-my…"

This was the last thing he had expected from his mother. He had heard how helpless she had become after his Aunt Prue's death, but he never quite believed those stories. His mother could never be shattered like that; she was too strong and powerful. She was his safe haven when the world turned to ruin. And now there was no one.

He turned around and walked back to the door.

"Dad would want you to fight," he whispered before opening the door and exiting the room.

He barely shut the door before people descended upon him, but he did not have the patience for it. He ignored questions and worried comments. They could worry all they wanted. At the moment, he had bigger things to be concerned about. His resolve to do something kept him going toward the front door until Lucien stepped into his path.

"I need some air."

The elemental shrugged. "I'll come with."

Anakin stepped around his boyfriend and reached for the door.

Lucien placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. "This won't bring him back."

"What?" he hissed.

Still Luc did not surrender. "You can't bring him back."

"I know." He tried to pull away, but the hand held him in place.

"So why are you doing this?"

Anakin spun to face the sole non-Halliwell in the apartment. He opened his mouth to yell or scream, but his voice got lost in a strangled sob.

Lucien pulled him into a tight embrace, and he closed his eyes wishing away the tears. He had to be strong: he had to stay sane.

"Don't fight it. You lost your dad. It's OK to lose it for a bit."

Without his consent the tears stared to flow. Sobs wracked his body, making it near impossible for him to keep standing. He was dimly aware of them moving before being lowered onto a soft bed. Dry, cracked lips pressed against his forehead as darkness took him once more.

It was dark when he woke from his sorrow-induced slumber. He looked around and was surprised to see Lucien still lying next to him, asleep. Thirsty, he carefully slid down the bed until his feet touched the floor. He then realized that someone, probably Lucien, had removed all his clothing, save for his jeans and underwear.

"Damn, it's cold," he murmured to the quiet room as he blindly started to search for his shirt and socks.

Two minutes yielded no results, and he was getting ready to just get a glass of water the way he was dressed when Lucien stirred.

"Annie?"

He froze on the spot. "Did I wake you?"

He could vaguely make out Lucien sitting up.

"No." The elemental stretched. "No. What's the time?"

"No idea."

"Must be late. Doesn't sound like anyone else is up."

Anakin came over to the bed. "Go back to sleep, then. I'm just getting some water." He leaned in and kissed Lucien.

"I'll wait up."

Not willing to argue, Anakin silently agreed and left the room. He returned a few minutes later, carrying a half-empty glass of water. "How long was I out?"

Lucien chuckled softly. "Not long enough. At least, according to Wyatt. He's worried that you burnt too much energy in the flight from the Manor, and that's why you flipped out on Piper."

Anakin cringed at the memory.

"I told him that you were grieving in your own way. Anyway, he and Chris went to see your mom and didn't come back out."

"Wait. What?"

"Well, not that I know of, anyway. That was around six, and I came back here around nine."

Anakin sat on the edge of the bed, taking a sip of water to try and wash down the lump in his throat. "I can't believe he's gone."

Lucien crawled over and wrapped his arms around the witch. "I'm sorry, babe."

Anakin breathed in the subtle scent of Luc's cologne. "And I bit my mom's head off."

"It cheered Chris up," Lucien whispered.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Anakin tried his best to keep his mind blank and just enjoy a moment alone with Lucien. No matter what he did, though, memories invaded his peace and without realizing it, he began to quietly sob again. He clutched tighter to the arms wrapped comfortingly around him.

Shutting his eyes, he could see his father standing before him. Leo was telling him something, but he could not make out any of the words. He desperately tried to speak, but all he managed was a distraught whine. Still, he refused to give up: nothing was going to make him surrender his daddy.

Leo smiled down at him, eyes glistening with tears.

"Dad, don't," he gasped.

The vision slowly started to melt away.

Anakin strangled a wail. "Please, daddy."

Tears flooded his eyes again, blurring even this figment of his imagination. The pressure in his chest stifled his breathing. Every moment was a battle against the pit in his stomach. This was his dad! And try as he might, there was nothing he could do to change what happened.

"Baby boy," whispered Luc in his ear, "it's all going to be OK."

His whole body shuddered. "No, it's not. He's gone."

Not wanting to talk anymore or even be aware of the world, Anakin rolled over to face Lucien. He stared intently in his boyfriend's eyes, which were as bloodshot as his own. As much as he did not want to talk, he also did not want to be alone. An intense desire to do something foolish rushed through him.

"Annie…" Lucien trailed off.

The thought vanished, and he was left even more hollow and broken than before. He sighed and forced a smile.

Lucien returned the sad smile. "It wouldn't have helped," he said softly.

"Maybe," returned Anakin.

Silence followed those words, much more subdued than before.

Lucien lay awake long after Anakin had fallen back asleep. It pained him to turn Anakin down, but this was not how he wanted things to be. Desperate for someone to talk to he checked his watch, which he had conjured moments ago, and huffed at the time. After the day the Halliwells had been through it would be hours before any of them rose, and he did not want to leave Anakin by himself.

"This is when a cell phone would come in handy, Jonathan."

He closed his eyes, replaying recent events in his mind. As painful as the memories, were he found some comfort in them. Things could have gone a lot worse than they had. With all the might their enemies had thrown at them, he felt even their pitiful flight to safety was a victory. He was sure that their escape was completely unforeseeable by their enemy. They had only lost Leo.

He shook his head at that thought. Leo's death was not insignificant. Leo had been a major figure in the magical community on par with the Charmed Ones. His death would be mourned by more than just his family and close friends. In spite of himself though, Lucien felt some relief. Better Leo than Chris, or worse—Anakin.

Anakin shifted next to him, and he held himself still. Only when the blond witch resettled on his side did he risk breathing out. There was so much he wanted to tell Anakin, but it all seemed to pale in light of everything, and now with how he had rejected him—what if that broke everything?

He loved Anakin, and he knew Anakin loved him back. Was love enough? He still felt like an outsider looking in with the Halliwells, and he always wondered who Anakin would choose if forced. Now a new evil loomed over the Halliwell clan, and maybe he would be shoved aside, one less person to constantly be worrying about. After all, he was not blood, not family.

Taking a deep breath, Lucien stared out the corner of the bedroom window not covered by shutters. The storm had cleared some time in the night, but it did not give him any hope. It would be morning soon, even if the sun never broke through the forsaken clouds.

A floorboard creaked and he returned his attention to the house around him. Any sound made him jumpy. He did not have the same ability as Anakin and his brothers to sense people with telepathy, so he had to rely on his other senses to pick up on any unwanted visitors.

He strained his hearing and nearly blasted the door off its hinges when someone knocked on it.

Anakin mumbled something groggily, but Lucien brushed the hair out of his face.

"Sleep some more."

He slipped out of bed and put on a robe before opening the door a few inches.

"Wyatt," he greeted.

The eldest Charmed Son bit his lip, looking remarkably awkward. "Come with me."

Lucien looked back at Anakin, who thankfully was once more blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

"Can it wait?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Chris'll keep an eye on Annie."

Lucien noticed the middle Halliwell brother behind Wyatt. "Chris."

Chris still had a worn and depressed look about him, but the utter defeat was gone from his eyes. It only took Lucien a moment to overcome his doubts, and he stepped out of the room.

"He woke up in the night, so he's still exhausted."

Chris smiled. "We know, but I'm glad to know he was in such good hands."

The doctor-to-be vanished into the bedroom.

Lucien waited on Wyatt expectantly, who was now even more visibly uncomfortable.

"How's Zach?" he asked to relieve the building tension.

Wyatt smiled gratefully. "He's shaken by my dad's death, but otherwise unharmed by yesterday's adventures."

Lucien followed Wyatt into the living room where Anakin was orbed yesterday. He moved to take a seat, but when Wyatt remained standing, changed his mind. He twiddled his thumbs, waiting for the other to start up the conversation, but the Twice-Blessed remained silent.

Finally, he had to say something. "You're not kicking me out, right?" He meant it as a joke, but even to his ears it sounded pathetic.

Wyatt's blue eyes hardened. "Anakin would flay us alive if we even suggested something like that."

"Maybe not." He tried to censor himself, but the words just spewed out of his mouth.

Wyatt grabbed hold of his hands and abruptly the world disappeared. It reappeared a moment later, but now they were standing on top of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"A little warning next time, Wy." Lucien clutched onto his cosmic taxi as he gained his balance.

Wyatt did not look sorry. "Right."

The black dots in his vision faded and he released Wyatt. The wind howled around them, and he wondered not for the first time why Anakin and Chris liked being up this high.

"We need to talk," said Wyatt sternly.

"Clearly." Lucien clutched his robe tightly around himself. "As I'm hardly dressed to be up here to sightsee."

Wyatt snapped his fingers and Lucien's robe morphed into sweat pants and a sweater.

"Better?"

Lucien, still not accustomed to this snappish Wyatt, agreed silently.

"Good." Wyatt started to pace. "Did you know that only thirteen witches in history have been given telepathy and empathy at the same time?"

Shocked at this useless piece of trivia, Lucien did not even answer.

Wyatt stopped and chuckled. "Shocked me, too. Especially when you consider five of those witches are related to me, and I'm the sixth."

Recovered slightly, Lucien nodded, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the cold.

"Both Chris and Anakin also have these powers. Combined with our whitelighter powers and that we are brothers, it makes for one hell of a mental connection. We've been able to shut down this link into one another's minds, thankfully, but even then those blocks fade and crumble if not constantly renewed."

Teeth chattering, Lucien stepped in closer to the taller witch. "Leave out the theory or you'll be talking to an icicle."

Wyatt cringed. "Right, sorry. It's just—I don't do well with these things."

"What things?"

Wyatt straightened his back and started pacing again. "Emotions, relationships, lovey-dovey crap."

Lucien's confusion only increased.

Seeing this, Wyatt groaned. "OK, I'll cut the crap. Anakin loves you, more than I think even he realizes. I believe the only reason he is still sane is because of you being there for him."

Lucien opened his mouth to argue. Wyatt shut him up with a glare.

"And as disturbing as it is, I know all about Anakin's little thing last night. Believe me, it grosses me out knowing that he can even think about sex. He's my baby brother." Wyatt shivered at that thought. "But for you to even hint at the idea that he would kick you out because you did what was best for him would devastate him. He believes he cannot rely on his family at the moment. You're all he has."

The embarrassment of hearing Wyatt voice Anakin's advances disappeared underneath the sudden burden he felt on his shoulders.

"That's ridiculous," he argued. "He has you, and Chris—and Prue!"

Wyatt took Lucien by the shoulders. "That's not what I'm saying. He believes that he cannot be a burden on top of our dad's death. He needs someone else to lean on. You're it."

"Thanks," Lucien snapped.

Wyatt wavered, arms dropped to his side. "Sorry, not what I meant. Look, I hate talking about this stuff, but it needed to be done. So if you're having any doubts about you and my brother, you'd better leave now. Because if you leave later, I don't think Anakin will survive."

"I don't want to leave, but he doesn't need any more pressure."

This actually got Wyatt to grin from ear to ear. "You are one of the most bizarre people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, Lucien Jonas. I've just told you that Anakin thinks of you as his source of strength, and you go on about not wanting to be a burden."

Lucien felt his ears burn, but he blamed it on the icy cold wind.

"Forget the emotional support you lend to this family. You are the most powerful elemental I have ever met, barring your brother. Having you at my baby brother's side lets me breathe a sigh of relief. So exactly where is this extra burden you are so worried about?"

Lucien hid his face and only looked back up at Wyatt when he was certain his blush had receded. "You're right. You suck at these talks."

Wyatt shrugged and orbed them back to Phoebe's home.

Wyatt and Chris traded places when Anakin woke up. The older brother instincts that he had been trying to quell over the last year surged to the forefront when he set his eyes on Anakin. Despite nothing overtly different, he knew that the man before him was on the verge of losing it. He had only seen Anakin look so helpless once before, and he had vowed to never let things get that bad again.

"Where's Luc?"

Pulling himself out of his musings, Wyatt gave his brother the biggest smile he could muster. "With Chris."

Anakin's eyes flicked to the door. "He OK?"

"Of course. I just wanted a moment alone with you."

The tension in Anakin's shoulders eased. "What's up?"

"I'm not one to kick someone when they're down, but you may want to tell Mom you're sorry."

Anakin gulped.

Wyatt simply chuckled. "Please, like she'd do anything to you. But she does feel horrible, and it'd ease her mind if you apologized."

"She and Chris talk?"

Wyatt nodded. "Spent most of the night talking, in fact."

"Should I go now?"

Again, Wyatt laughed. "Mom won't be up for a few more hours. I had to knock both of them out to get any sleep. I know it's personal gain, but I live with a two-year-old. Sleep is a precious commodity."

Anakin felt his lips creep upwards. "I guess they'll let you slide, then."

Wyatt shrugged. "Worst they can do is tell me not to do it again, and with this war, personal gain is not going to be high up on the agenda."

"God!" Anakin exhaled. "Are we really at war again?"

Wyatt sat down next to his brother. "Afraid so."

"Dad's not here to help."

"No, he's not."

Anakin let out a sigh. "Chris blames himself for Dad's death."

Wyatt pulled his baby brother into a tight embrace. "And yet you're the one I'm worried about. There was nothing you could do, Anakin."

The younger man forced himself not to stiffen. How, after all these years, he could still fool himself into believing he could hide anything from Wyatt was beyond him, yet it still surprised him just how well his brother knew him. Nevertheless he did not have the strength to tackle the proposed topic. It was still too soon.

"What you talk to Luc about?"

Wyatt grinned. "That is between your boyfriend and myself."

Annoyed, the youngest Halliwell got off the bed. "I'll go ask him, then."

He half expected Wyatt to run up and stop him but was disappointed. Reaching the door, he looked over his shoulder. Wyatt had not moved from his position on the edge of the bed.

"I need him, Wyatt."

His usually helpful brother kept his lips shut.

"God!"

Instead of storming out of the room as he intended, he spun around. One glimpse of the scene before him sucked all the energy out of him. Nothing had changed really, but it struck him in that moment just how similar Wyatt was to their dad. That instant was all it took for the pain and guilt to wash over him. There must have been something they could have done differently to save him. The universe could not be that cruel, could it?

"It sucks," Wyatt whispered. "There're moments that I forget what happened. I can't imagine what it must feel like to have been there—to relive that, again."

Anakin sunk to the floor, still staring at his brother. "What if I could have saved him? What if this is all my fault? What if…"

He furiously blinked away the tears. It was normal, natural, but he still could not allow his brother to see him like this. Wyatt would beat himself up for not being there; he probably was already. He did not need to make matters any worse. This tragedy could have been laid at only one of their feet, and he knew who should have been able to stop it.

Covers rustled, and he knew Wyatt had finally stood up.

"Don't. This was no one's fault but that demon's."

Hugging had never been Wyatt's thing but when Anakin felt Wyatt's arms wrap around him for the second time in a dozen minutes, the crushing hand around his heart eased off.

"We lost Dad, and it sucks. We can't get lost in what ifs, though. The attack on the Manor was coordinated and planned with us in mind. Every weakness we have was exploited. That means the witch hunters know about our family—all our family."

Anakin sniffed. "You think they're going to try and take out Auntie Phoebe and Paige."

"We need a battle plan."

A renewed sense of purpose cleared Anakin's mind. "We should move them to Magic School. Where are Sarah and Zach?"

"They're with her family. We decided to keep Zach as far away from the war as possible."

"Magic School is safer," Anakin half-argued.

"Sarah's family has powerful magics of their own. I trust them to keep them safe."

Anakin accepted that fact easily enough. Wyatt and Sarah had never been very forthcoming about Sarah's family, but the magic that he had seen her practice made him feel jealous at times and considering his pedigree, that was no small feat.

Magic School had been discussed as a bunker for the family before, but the idea had always seemed too selfish. Now, after yesterday's events, retreating to Magic School was the only option in his mind. They knew next to nothing about Aeglaeca, whom he felt was truly behind the renewed Salem-esque hysteria. They needed time to regroup and to strike out from a place of strength.

"What are you thinking?"

Anakin sighed. "They're never going into hiding. The whole fiasco with Christie won't let them. They're the Charmed Ones, Good Magic's first line of protection. Retreating while the rest of the world goes to hell is no more an option for them than for us."

"This is different, though."

Anakin shook his head. "They'll all want to fight."

"Staying here or at Paige's will leave us wide open to an attack."

"So we set up someplace else. Someplace they'd never suspect."

Anakin sat in the hotel lobby watching the unfolding news with a smirk on his face. Finally, after nearly a year, they had beaten their enemy to the punch. Whatever Owain said about the raid on the Manor, the raid on the Halliwell-Love residence clearly was meant to be a major publicity show. Only the raid was a flunk.

It had taken some skilled arguments by Chris to convince everyone, but he was a very skilled orator. Now, hours later the Halliwell-Love-Mathews-Mitchell clan was cooped up in the penthouse suite of Serena's dad's hotel, all except Anakin.

Losing his father hurt, but sitting around being consoled was excruciating. He knew where his family was coming from; he just was not there in his grieving process.

"And you never will be."

Anakin jumped. "Fuck, Raphael."

The thin Power That Be remained stoic-faced.

Anakin groaned. "Now what?"

Raphael walked over to the TV and switched it off.

"Michael has received the news of your father's death and wishes to send her condolences."

Anakin glared at the ex-Elder. "Tell her she can stick it where the sun don't shine. A simple heads up could have saved him."

"It was Leo's time. He had escaped Uriel too many times."

Despite himself, Anakin frowned. "Who?"

"Uriel." Raphael shuddered. "He's the Angel of Death."

"So he's the Death version of you and Gabriel?"

"More Gabriel than me. Michael, as the eldest and closest to the Creator, got the job of watching everyone. Then Gabriel chose to guide the formation of the Elders and Whitelighters. Uriel found the Thanatae more to his liking. And the list goes on and on. But then Lucifer and his followers fucked with Eve's mind and caused the Fall. Most of us chose to remove ourselves and prepare for the final battle when the Creator-in-flesh would come down and reclaim His Creation."

Anakin nodded. "But some had to stay behind to balance out the Fallen."

Raphael nodded. "Which brings us back to Uriel, who alone of all of us acts neither for evil nor good. He is the Creator's curse, Adam's punishment. And because of this, he is a force that none of us can contend with. He'd as soon as vanquish Michael and Lucifer if either got in his way."

"But we've cheated Death before. Hell, I saved my whole family from Him."

"You cheated Fate and Destiny before," Raphael corrected. "They may be petty, but they are minor beings, barely above mortals."

Anakin laughed. "This coming from the guy who keeps pushing me to follow my destiny."

"Nevertheless, they can be persuaded to change their plans, and often that influences who a Thanatos, a minor Angel of Death, comes to visit. But when Uriel sets his eyes on you, it'd take an act of the Creator to save you."

Anakin gritted his teeth. "So why did Uriel decide my dad had to die? What purpose does his death serve?"

Raphael shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've only seen Uriel twice in my existence and neither experience is one I wish to relive."

Letting out a great sigh, Anakin sunk deeper into his chair. "So what's Michael's actual message?"

"Michael wishes to tell you how sorry she is for your father's death, and how proud she is that you did not let it cripple you."

Anakin scoffed.

Raphael raised an eyebrow before continuing. "I also am grateful that you acted as quickly as you did. I don't believe Aeglaeca foresaw it, and it has presented us with a chance to plan our next move."

Blue eyes met blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm not going to like this," complained Anakin…


End file.
